Baby grew again

It's been getting harder to do regular, everyday things. Like get off the couch. I now have a tendency to use Mike's arm to propel myself forward. (This occasionally prompts a weird look, to which I respond "Hi." or "Thanks." or sometimes "WHAT?")

Getting up off the floor is like a four-step process these days, and one that I avoid at all costs.

And then last night... I woke up on my back (apparently I'll never fully break myself of that). I propped myself up, about to get up for a bathroom break, of course... Or rather, I tried to prop myself up. And tried again. But that belly wasn't budging. For a second, I thought I might have to wake Mike up and have him shove me over onto my side. But the sheer patheticness of that thought was enough to give me an extra burst of energy to heave myself up.

And as soon as my feet hit the floor, I would have sworn the belly weighed 5 pounds more than it had when I went to sleep just three hours earlier.

I guess this is what my book meant a week or so ago when it told me that the baby was "about to go through a major growth spurt." Unfortunately, it failed to mention that the baby would start pinning me down to various pieces of furniture.