My 24 week appointment went well. Everything is measuring spot-on, my concern about the discrepancies between my scale and the doctor scale were laid to rest when I had it confirmed that the rate and total gain were the same.  At 24 weeks, I’ve gained 12 pounds, which is below the average, which is where it should be. Babycenter tells me I should only gain 15 pounds, which makes me give them a great big middle finger. I know I shouldn’t gain a LOT, and probably less than average, and I’m eating well and exercising (does coughing count as abs work, too?) but 15 pounds is going to be surpassed, for sure. I plugged in the figures for someone who was underweight, and they got a range of 28-40. Overweight, FIFTEEN! That’s it, fatty! FIF!TEEN! Whatever. March of Dimes was much more helpful in providing a graph of weight gained over time, and I’m holding steady to my own curve, which is okay, IMO. ANd my doctor, who reportedly can be pretty aggressive about weight gain, had zero problems with where I’m at.

The coughing/illness of the last two weeks was diagnosed as bronchitis, and I started a 6-day round of antibiotics today. I sure hope it helps. The coughing is annoying, to me and others, I’m sure, and it HURTS. It’s coughing-til-I-see-stars at this point, to where I almost throw up from the momentum. I wake myself up coughing, and Dave, and it SUCKS. My voice is slowly going away, right now I sound like one of Marge’ sisters on the Simpsons. Oh, and lets not mention that if I feel a really powerful coughing fit approaching, I better get to a bathroom right away, lest I totally piss my pants.

How does sex end up making one so totally UNSEXY? UGH. UGH. UGH.

Oh, and here’s a belly pic from today: