Twenty-seven weeks even. Happy Third Trimester!

Twenty-seven weeks marks the start of the third trimester. According to my ticker in the corner of my browser, there are 90 days, 22 hours, 29 minutes, and 39 seconds remaining in my pregnancy. Not that I expect to go all the way to the end, as I was a month early last time.

From the book:

Baby now weighs a little more than two pounds.
Crown-to-rump length is 9.6 inches, and total length is 15.3 inches. (I tend to give birth to 18 or 19-inchers.)
The uterus measures 27 cm from pubic symphysis to fundus. In theory. In practice, it is 32.5 cm, which is 5 "weeks" ahead, but consistent growth for me, about 2 cm more than the last time I measured.

The baby can, in theory, see now. The retina has formed, at least. Of course, the womb is a rather dark place, so what the baby can actually see is anyone's guess, I suppose. It's probably starting to blink, at any rate.

I still cannot discern the baby's position. Probably breech, knowing me. If not completely transverse. Sigh. It's not sitting still from day-to-day.

Third trimester pain has started. Started last week, actually. A bit early. Nothing like going around with an icepick stabbing you at the base of your spine...Usually this is when I start to question why the hell I don't just adopt. This time...I dunno. I'm groovy. Mellow. My marriage seems to be falling apart around me, but I'm in some other universe with the fetus. Odd. Very odd.