13.4 - Shrimpy

It was an eventful week.

We hit 13 weeks, last week of the first trimester.  Baby is now 3 inches long and has fingerprints.  BabyCenter compares baby's size to a shrimp, to which Jimi replied:


At 13 weeks my Baby is the size of a large shrimp, So sayeth the BabyCenter.com!

Yeeech, whomever comes up with these comparatives needs to try harder. Nobody wants to associate shellfish with their wife's Baby machine, fun factory or any of the local geography hidden by bikini bottoms.

BLEH! and again i say, fllllpppttt. You wanna get Daddies on board?

• My Lil buddy is now the size of a .50 round.
• My child is roughly the size of 3/4 inch deep well socket.
• My princess has grown to be about the same size as one of her mommy's lip stick tubes. (yeah, we know what they look like.)
• Lil' Jedi's size is now comparative to a Vintage Kenner r2d2. (Star Wars nerds have kids too.)
• Kid's the size of one o them Bic lighters. (and so do rednecks.)
• (For the foodies) Your popover has grown to the size of a medium sized jalapeno.
• (And the Hippies) Tiny Garcia's totally the size of a 2oh fatty.
• (You have to be the most hipster of the hip to get this one... or a bike repair specialist) Wheelz is about the size of a star-fangled nut. (All the hipsters that dig this are now thinking, "Man, i ain't no Hipster. I just like my bike... I hate hipsters.")

Okay, i think i get my point across by now. BabyCenter, up your game.
 

They say I will start feeling him/her kick any day now.  Thursday was my second doctor appointment - heartbeat was in the 160s and they said my labs looked good.  Big sigh of relief hearing that heartbeat on the doppler - she couldn't find it at first and I was starting to panic a little, "I'm starting to freak out just a little bit, Doc," answered with "No need to freak out, sometimes they just hide."  And then there it was, behind an artery thumping with my own heavy loud rhythm, beating away with a fast low "whomp whomp whomp whomp".  Baby's fine.  Baby's great.  Nat's happy.

We go back on September 25th for the anatomy scan.  We're going to learn the sex, if baby cooperates, but I don't know yet if we'll find out in the doctor's office or if we'll have them write it down for us so we can do some sort of special reveal later.  Is the new gender reveal trend lame, or adorable and sweet?  I can't decide, but I'm leaning toward adorable and sweet.  I like the idea of there being a picture of our faces the moment we learn which we're having.  I like the idea of being surrounded by our family and them learning along with us. But is it as big a deal to anyone but us?  Will anyone else even care beyond "Oh, that's nice"?  I'm bad about forgetting that the world doesn't revolve around me - I don't want to get so swept up that I think everyone's going to treat my child like a new gravitational force.

We're getting married.  I'm going to write that again.  WE'RE GETTING MARRIED!!!!  In about a month, either just before or while we're on vacation.  We're just going to run off and do it.  We talked about having it here, at home, and renting a tent for the front yard, catering, having a nice casual gathering where our family and friends could celebrate with us, but we have a lot of money to spend in the next 6 months, and the cost of a wedding, even a small casual at-home wedding, falls into the "It'd be nice, but there are more important things" category.  Wedding bands, vacation, a couch, new rugs to cover our newly-revealed hardwood floors - those are all in the "I want this more than a big one-day party" category.  Plus, I think the idea of running away together, just the two of us, is kinda romantic.  (And I started to have a minor panic attack when we were throwing around party ideas - there's a reason that last time I got married at a plans-it-all-for-you chapel and turned the entire reception over to my Mother-In-Law.) 

So yeah, an eventful week.  I feel like all the awesome in the world is aligning to smile on me - what I've done to deserve this much happy, I don't know, but I'm going to soak it up and enjoy the hell out of it. 

12 - Limey!

8 weeks ago today, the focal point of my world shifted.  Against all odds, a second line appeared and told us that our lives were about to change.  I went to my calendar that evening, and counted out the days - "August 8th, Jimi, that's when we can start to breathe."  12 weeks. Of course, I didn't realize yet that they don't actually consider your first trimester over and the second begun until week 13, but still - it's a milestone I set in my mind, and so it must be acknowledged now that it's arrived.  "If I can just get to twelve weeks," I told myself regularly thereafter, "I'll feel much better and know that everything's going to be okay." 

I'm here!  12 weeks today, and Baby Trogdor is over two inches long, or about the size of a lime, according to Baby Center.  Did you hear that woosh of air this morning, about 7 a.m.?  I was waking up and realizing the day, the date, and that was my huge sigh of relief.

Of course I know there are still threats and troubles we could face.  There are no guarantees here.  I'm going to pretend, though, okay?  I'm going to just go with the assumption that everything is perfect and life is awesome and this little miracle is the awesomest part ever.  I spent the first month or so convinced this was temporary, so let me enjoy the flip side, please.

I've been sick, like morning-throw-up sick, for the past two days.  It almost caught me last night too, but I was able to thwart it with cake and red raspberry leaf tea.  Mmm, cake. 

I'm hungry all the time, but my appetite really seems to take off right when I'm home from work.  The letting-go of the workday stresses seems to signal game-on to my belly.  In fact, I asked Jimi to start dinner like thirty minutes ago and he's still sitting here...

Okay, now he's on his way to the kitchen, like the good man he is.  ;)  (Sometimes I'm glad he doesn't read my blog.) 

I feel good.  I'm so fucking happy.  I can't imagine life getting any better, but it will.  It's going to get better, and that woosh right there was the sound of my mind being blown. 

11.3 - God loves Figs

Eleven weeks, three days.  I'm feeling settled and confident. 

The last week's been sort of emotional.  There was a huge brewhaha over some chicken and civil rights, and people came out in droves to declare their support for either side.  I was heartbroken to see the numbers that represented the other side, the dark side, the people whose opinions are wrong.  I don't say that to start a fight - I say it because that's how I see it and this is my blog and I can say what I want.  If you don't believe in equal civil rights for all Americans, you're wrong.  It's really that simple, in my world.  Anyhow, I spent a good part of the week trying to avoid reading too much about the controversy that shouldn't be, because it makes me so fucking sad to consider how many people still want to limit the rights of others.  Life just shouldn't be so damned unfair. 

There was happy this week too, though, and plenty of it.  Jimi's reading his "Daddy Books", and is monitoring my diet even more closely, making sure that I'm eating the right foods and getting plenty of the good stuff.  Maggie made me cry yesterday when she told me she'd like to throw a baby shower for me - it's the first time anyone's mentioned it, and it feels surreal that there would be a party organized to give me baby stuff.  Crazy!  I can't wait.  I bought a cross-stitch kit today, so I can make a little something to hang in the baby's room. 

My pants are getting tight.  My belly pooch is much more noticeable (to me, at least), and is firmer now, rather than squishy.  I look like I never went to boot camp, and then maybe ate some ice cream to celebrate.  I'm still 2 pounds lighter than I was 7 weeks, though, despite my much-increased appetite.  I'm proud of myself for getting so far into the first trimester without gaining weight - and I'm probably patting myself on the back way too early. 

My dreams are crazy and cool and weird and awesome, and I really should start recording them.  I always heard you dream more during pregnancy, and I'm so glad I get to experience that part.  I love dreaming, I love watching/participating in the stories my unconscious mind creates. 

Pregnancy is a-okay in my book so far.  I feel mostly normal, just with bigger/sorer boobs and an ability to better-metabolize all the food.  I do feel a little sick to my stomach most nights, especially after eating.  It's like I can't decide if I'm hungry again, or if I shouldn't have eaten in the first place. 

Work was hard this week, as usual, but it was much more tolerable and pleasant than it has been in months.  I blame my readjusted attitude, and I'm thankful for it.  I didn't need the extra stress my frustration was creating, and I don't like living that way.  I like my life happy-go-lucky, thank you very much, and I prefer to keep it that way.  I'm incredibly grateful for my fortunate circumstances, and I'm reminding myself of that regularly. 

I've decided against the NT scan.  I don't want the extra stress.  I'm operating under the assumption that everything is going to be just fine, and God help me if I'm making the wrong choice.  I'm going to think this baby here, healthy and whole, with my good vibes and positive attitude.  If it's meant to be it will be.  I feel like this is meant to be. 

I think it's a boy.  Everyone says girl, I feel boy.  Time will tell.  We'll love either with equal fervor. 

I keep meaning to start a letter to this little one.  I started to type "I don't know why i haven't yet...", but I do know.  I think I'm nearly past that, though.  Almost. 

I can't believe that we made a whole another person.  I can't believe my body is doing this.  What a miraculous thing.