a knitting goof (and more pregnancy rambling)

Cute, right? It's a great hat, right? Well, this is what happens when you don't swatch, use yarn and needles rather different than the pattern's recommendation, and change a few things to "fix" what you think of as problems with the pattern without thinking them through. 
 

This hat was supposed to be me-sized. Instead, Munchkin now has a lovely winter beret for this year. And the yarn's discontinued, so I can't make a matching grown-up version. Yes, well, I suppose pride must go before a fall. I'd been so convinced that my mods to this pattern would render it much better than the original, but several of my changes just didn't work out as planned. This happens to me once in a while. It happens less often with knitting than it used to, but it certainly happens more often than I'd prefer. It happens with cooking, too, when I hare off on my own without thinking too hard about what I'm doing.

To clarify: changing a pattern or a recipe is not a bad idea. Changing a pattern or recipe without thinking about what the changes might do can be a very bad idea. This hat also exemplifies one of the laws of knitting physics: A work-in-progress may look either larger or smaller on the needles than it is in reality.

I can't even blame this hat on baby-brain, because I started it almost a whole year before I got pregnant, and it wandered in and out of the WIP box during that year. I finally finished it last week. Either I really goofed, or I'm psychic and knew I'd need baby-sized items. (Although by that logic, I'd have the sweater I'm working on turning out tiny, too, which it's not).

Last week, I got to have an ultrasound, which led to my doctor scheduling yet another ultrasound for the end of May. The baby is a tad smaller than expected, so now they have to check up on it again. The baby being small doesn't phase me quite as much as it might. I am a short person, from a short family, and I and a couple of my brothers were below the 10th percentile when we were born, and we were all perfectly healthy. I did marry into a family that produces larger babies (J. was somewhere around 9 pounds to my 5.4 pounds at birth), but so far, my genes seem to be winning as far as size goes. As far as temperament goes, well, the baby's activity level is more reminiscent of J.'s energy levels, which are much higher than mine. Being a little small may be absolutely normal for this baby, or it could be related to the way I couldn't keep much food down for the first half of my pregnancy. At least at my most recent check-up, I'd gained weight (less than I should have, but better than losing weight again). Eating food that stays down is becoming normal again, which is a wonderful feeling.

The baby should catch up a bit in size now that I'm actually keeping food down on a regular basis (or I hope that's what'll happen, so the doctor will stop worrying). The morning sickness isn't completely gone, but I'm off the medication and I'm keeping food down and only being sick occasionally. The nausea isn't gone, but that's easier to handle than constant vomiting. The interesting pregnancy symptoms haven't abandoned me yet, though. I get pretty achy and the baby likes to settle on top of my bladder, so I'm waking up many times at night to drag myself to the bathroom (practice for when Munchkin's here and needing to be fed in the middle of the night--I'll get used to the sleep interruption now).

At any rate, pregnancy is still uncomfortable, but I'm not as stressed about the discomfort levels as I was when I was constantly sick. I hear this is supposed to be the best time of the pregnancy, but that doesn't seem to be saying a lot. I'm definitely not going to be one of those women who want kids because they enjoy being pregnant. There's absolutely nothing to compare with feeling the baby move inside me, yes, but that's really the only bit I truly enjoy, and it gets less enjoyable when Munchkin bashes into my bladder again. I hear it gets even better when the baby's bigger and can punch me in the lungs. Should be interesting. 

In the meantime...I have to drag myself off to the bathroom again.