The most interesting thing about the second trimester is how boring it is. There simply isn't anything to report, most of the time. Olive continues to grow: she's still somewhere above the 50th percentile in all her vital measurements, still looking good on the ultrasounds. Other than that, there just isn't a whole lot to say. Life continues apace, and the incremental change on a day-to-day basis is too small to notice.

On a slightly larger scale, you can see some changes. On the charts of uterine size, there isn't much growth at all until week 12 or so, but from that point the diameter of the uterus grows at a more or less constant rate until week 36. This is most useful as a proxy for belly growth: Christina has a clearly visible baby belly now; fashion choices these days aren't "can this hide that I'm pregnant" anymore, so much as "does this look more like I swallowed a volleyball or a throw pillow?"

One thing which has amused us recently is that for whatever reason, pregnancy makes Christina burp. These aren't dainty emissions, either: they're belches: hearty, frequent, and unpredictable. Normally, Christina is an extremely decorous person, and makes fun of me whenever I, after drinking a liter of soda, rumble out some of the CO₂¹. Turnabout is fair play, of course, so there's some degree of ribbing about this particular symptom.

Other than that, it's more or less just normal pregnancy. There are occasional aches, but nothing unusual or alarming; there are some cramping sensations which may or may not be Braxton-Hicks contractions, but we're not sure. There continue to be belly flutters and occasionally taps from the interior, but for whatever reason Olive hasn't really started beating down the walls yet. That will come in time, I suppose.

No news is good news, and there just hasn't been any news. I'll write again when something else happens.