Today is April 17th, which means it is exactly 2 months until Baby E is due! I know that she could come earlier (yes please) or later (dear God no) than June 17th, but it's still a good mile marker. Seven months down, two to go. She's beginning to be a bit cramped in there at 3 1/2 pounds and 18 inches long.
Her movements have decreased a ton this last week, which has me a little worried. I still feel movement, so I know she's alive, but it's nowhere near the amount I had been feeling before. I can go an hour or two without feeling her kick, whereas I would feel her wiggling around every moment of every day before. What has happened to my hyperactive baby? Are things just too tight in there so she's taking it easy? I have my 2-week appointment on Tuesday, so I'll just check with Dr. Raley then.
We spent time with our neighbors yesterday. They invited us to stop by because they were having a sort of open house in honor of the husband/dad, who had recently passed away. They're interesting people. All three of them (mom and dad in their 60s, daughter a little younger than I am) were living on disability, and we never saw any of them actually leaving the house to do much. They have a list a mile long of what's wrong with them physically. And before he died, Willy told them that he wanted them to throw a party and everyone should "do a shot and smoke a doobie" in his honor. So yeah, interesting people. Anyway, the daughter Michelle has a 3 month old son named Alex who is absolutely adorable. I spent a lot of time holding him yesterday, and he's a very sweet and happy baby. It made me sad though, because I don't think he gets the kind of attention he needs. His mom just leaves him inside with a bottle to feed himself while she stays outside smoking. And I can tell that he's lying down on his back too much and not being held/played with enough. The back of his head has a big bald spot, which I know isn't uncommon for babies because they're on their backs so often at first. But he also has a huge scabby sore on the spot, which makes me think of a bedsore. It made me sad to see this beautiful baby boy and wonder what kind of future he has, living with Mom and Grandma in a house full of trash and cigarette smoke.
I know that we're blessed, and I sometimes fail to remember it. I'm not living off disability, and if I needed to go back to work, I could. I come from a family of hard workers with strong work ethics. Kevin has a solid job that, while it isn't much, allows us to pay for most of our needs. We have a nice house to live in, and while it isn't in the greatest neighborhood, we have some nice neighbors and I've rarely felt unsafe. And Baby Evelyn will never ever have a shortage of people wanting to hold her, play with her, teach her, and love her. So I'm content with everything right now.