I should have known better than to be feeling pretty good about my up-to-now problem-free pregnancy. On Saturday, I noticed some very itchy bumps on my tummy. This morning, I have more both on my tummy and on my wrists, and I’m pretty sure it’s PUPPP (Pruritic Urticarial Papules and Plaques of Pregnancy). (Note: do not Google for this unless you’re into photos of pregnant women covered in oozing crusty rashes.)

The condition normally starts in the third trimester (I’m 2 weeks away from that), but is most common in first pregnancies and when carrying a boy, so given the symptoms and comparing with the aforementioned icky photos, it seems likely this is it. I have a Bean-related doctor appointment tomorrow anyway, so I’ll see if they agree with my google self-diagnosis. Right now I’m going to run out to Whole Foods for some Grandpa’s Pine Tar Soap and see if that particular home remedy helps at all. The itching is intense but luckily still intermittent at present. I really really don’t want to be one of those women who has to be induced at 36 weeks because the non-stop scratching and sleeplessness has become more detrimental than an early labor. :-/

Poor Miss Miranda has not enjoyed most of her Thanksgiving weekend. We boarded her at the vet from Wednesday morning to Friday afternoon since we stayed over at Myrtle Beach with Jag’s family, and she did not have a good time. We had the vet do her yearly physical while she was there, and towards the end of the exam, she flipped out and attacked the vet tech’s welder’s gloves, losing a canine tooth in the process. She then refused to eat for the next 24 hours and had to be syringe-fed. She did start eating a bit on her own before we came to get her, but I’m really worried about boarding her again. I’m actually much more upset about the not-eating part than the losing-a-tooth thing.

She really is a sweet kitty at home, and she seems so cute and peaceable and incapable of attacking anyone, although both me and Jag have seen her in action at the vet before. It’s amazing how scary a pissed-off 8-pound cat can be.