Sorry, I am here. Really I am.

I am just taking a lot of naps. I just have not been feeling good at all. Baby's doing flip-flops all over my stomach, which is making for an interesting time for any food in there trying to stay down. Yes, I know, TMI. (I bought a cute new pair of pj's the other day that was stained within mere minutes where I spilled my Maximum Strength Gaviscon.) So that, along with the nasty heartburn, extreme nausea, the leg cramps, the headaches and the snoring husband (love you honey!) and you have a sleepless in Tampa-bay, somewhat grumpy "me". But the good news is, baby is doing fine still incubating in there and he's supposedly creeping up on 4 pounds in there, according to latest sonogram.

The partial previa I have is starting to lessen, although not very much. My placenta (aka my "sack" as my sister likes to call it-- she asks me often "How's your sack?") is migrating northward slowly (it has moved about a centimeter in the past 10 weeks) and I have another sono at 34 weeks to make sure it's moving farther up.

I don't remember being this uncomfortable with Poops the last time around, but they say that God makes you forget the yucky parts so you'll keep on popping out kids. I am convinced that is true. But before I get to thinking, "I still have 9 more weeks to go???!!!" (and by the way, most people--even strangers-- who see my belly and ask how far along I am have no problem expressing their astonishment at the fact that I still have until the end of November even though I look already like I am about to pop) I quickly push that thought from my mind and think I will be absolutely blessed to go another 9 weeks, no matter how huge and uncomfortable I become. I promise I will be around to visit soon!