Um, still 24 weeks.

So the midwife totally shot down the ultrasound tech's pushed-up due date. So I'm back to my original May 12th estimate. She told me that studies have found that after the first trimester, ultrasounds are actually quite inaccurate when it comes to evaluating fetal age. Apparently a mother's instinct about her due date (ie., will it be early or late) is actually more accurate than an ultrasound. Wild, eh?

And my evaluation of our little Bubba's physical activities as 'constant' and 'energetic' were confirmed when she went to listen to his heartbeat. Little tadpole wouldn't stay in one place for more than 5 seconds. She was chasing him all over my belly with the Doplar, moving that thing like a little kid playing with Match cars. Happily, his heartbeat is good, my blood pressure is staying perfect, and I've now gained a total of 9 pounds. So we're doing well on all fronts! If only this kid hadn't learned to punch me in the ribs and kick me in the bladder at the same exact time.

I think we're hitting a big growth spurt right now, because I'm starting to get hungry again a few hours after eating. Speaking of which, that Passion Fruit ice cream I made last night (yeah that's right, I made ice cream, and it is damn good) is calling my name...