I had read in more than one pregnancy book that some women get nervous during that period of pregnancy in the early 2nd trimester when symptoms start disappearing, but the baby hasn't started kicking yet. It can start to feel like you're not pregnant when you lose the nausea and the fatigue, and all the proof you have left is that your pants don't fit. I knew that when this happened to me, I'd expect it and therefore wouldn't worry.
But I'm an almost-mom now, so of course I did worry. I felt weirdly normal for awhile there. Sure, my tummy was getting bigger - but was it really? Or was I just imagining it? And why wasn't I exhausted? And how could I know if everything was okay? I started feeling anxious. I wanted proof.
And just in time, at my 20th week, it became clear that those slight movements in my stomach that I'd chalked up to normal tummy rumblings were indeed Fetus Jutzivan making itself known. I wouldn't describe it as butterflies or popcorn popping, as people had to me, and in fact I wouldn't know how to describe it, but when it started happening enough, I knew what it was.
And it's really cool.
The books tell me the baby weighs 1 lb and is the size of "a small doll", which makes me laugh because that seems to indicate that "small doll" is a universal reference, like there are a finite number of doll sizes in the world. I have a Frida Kahlo doll that's about the size of my index finger, but I'm pretty sure that's not the kind of small they're talking about, especially since last week they were comparing the baby to a "small cantaloupe".
But I'm an almost-mom now, so of course I did worry. I felt weirdly normal for awhile there. Sure, my tummy was getting bigger - but was it really? Or was I just imagining it? And why wasn't I exhausted? And how could I know if everything was okay? I started feeling anxious. I wanted proof.
And just in time, at my 20th week, it became clear that those slight movements in my stomach that I'd chalked up to normal tummy rumblings were indeed Fetus Jutzivan making itself known. I wouldn't describe it as butterflies or popcorn popping, as people had to me, and in fact I wouldn't know how to describe it, but when it started happening enough, I knew what it was.
And it's really cool.
The books tell me the baby weighs 1 lb and is the size of "a small doll", which makes me laugh because that seems to indicate that "small doll" is a universal reference, like there are a finite number of doll sizes in the world. I have a Frida Kahlo doll that's about the size of my index finger, but I'm pretty sure that's not the kind of small they're talking about, especially since last week they were comparing the baby to a "small cantaloupe".
Anyway, my li'l one-pounder is big enough to be making my stomach stick out in such a way that one person so far has offered me a seat on the subway. Thank you, lady I don't know! That was very nice of you! That was one of those 25 degree days when I wore a tight t-shirt that left nothing to the imagination. Unfortunately, I haven't been offered a seat during rush hour since because I'm back in my winter coat which shows no definition. So much for my dreams of extra-special subway treatment for 9 whole months.
Pregnancy brings with it many side-effects: nausea, fatigue, achy muscles, forgetfulness, odd food cravings (lime sorbet! I must have lime sorbet!), and the list goes on. But there's one thing I wasn't expecting, and that is: "the inability to think or talk about anything but strollers and crib sets". I have seriously become the worst conversationalist. The other day I excitedly told a friend about a stroller I want that "folds like a dream" and she pretended to care, bless her. The thing is, I knew it wouldn't be that interesting to her, but I felt the need to share anyway. Because THAT'S ALL I THINK ABOUT THESE DAYS.
Baby baby baby. Kick kick kick. Looking forward to meeting you in August.
1 comment:
That kid is gonna be a soccer star - just like dear ol' dad.
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