This week was a turning point for me in many ways. First, both times that I got on BART today men got up to offer me their seats in the handicapped/elderly section, which has never happened before. I guess I have transitioned from looking chubby to looking pregnant. Second, I started feeling him move in the last couple of days—a lot. At first I felt a little kick, but wasn’t sure if it was him or a gas bubble (to be blunt). Then I felt a couple more, and today I felt them all day long, and this time there was no doubt. One friend described fetal movements as flutters, but mine feel more like tiny little kicks. If I press my hand in the right spot, I can feel them with my fingers. Third, I’ve developed heartburn, and have been taking Tums regularly. I don’t get it everyday, though. It comes and goes, and today wasn’t as bad as the night I threw up. Fourth, I’ve gained 20 pounds. Ugh! I’m supposed to have gained 10-15 by now, but oh well. I’m always hungry. ALWAYS. I try not to each junk, but I do eat as much as I want. Fifth, I have become familiar with the dangers of sneezing and coughing hard. Let’s just say my bladder is squished and, well, maybe I should buy diapers. Last, I’ve stopped climbing. My OB/climber friend advised me against climbing past 20 weeks, and after trying it at week 20 and having an un-fun time, I decided to take her advice. The problem is that when I bend down (like to tie my shoes), I can’t breathe, and climbing feels like bending down over and over, so I constantly felt out of breath. I miss yoga, but am a little intimidated by my old astanga class, so I think I’m going to finally try out the prenatal classes at Seventh Heaven. I’ll probably be bored, but maybe that will at least give me the confidence to return to astanga.