It was way back in January when we knew this was going to be the year that we made a real go of making a baby. And then, in late March, when we returned to the US after touring Paris and Reykjavik, I started thinking about the time table this little endeavor would operate on. Ha. But you’ve got to start somewhere, I suppose.
According to my guesses, I’d be in the early stages of pregnancy in November. I have absolutely no idea why I chose that arbitrary date, but I did. So according to my earliest calculations, I would be about seven or eight weeks along by now. HA (one more time.)
It took two and a half months to get pregnant. Three weeks after we moved to North Carolina, Bebe made an appearance in the form of an additional pink line on the pee stick.
Um, that was easy. Everything worked.
So here we are at week 23 in early December. According to the produce email updates, Bebe is now the size of a large mango and weighs over a pound.
Here’s an idea I am giving away for absolutely FREE to anyone who wants it: a series of image macros that show cute little vegetable/fruit babies in utero saying clever things. Don’t say I never did giveaways.
A couple observations:
My hair is not so good. I think it’s pretty common for ladies to undergo some change in their hair during pregnancy. The pregnancy hormones (haha, I first typed “hormoans”; just the first of several Freudian references you’ll find littered throughout this post) make their hair lustrous and shiny and beautiful and very Pantene commercial. Yeah, so, not me.
I’ve had occasional shoots of gray for the last couple years. At first it was kind of fun to find them because it was like a badge of age and wisdom. They are officially out of control now. Thick and wiry, they stand out prominently against my already dark brown hair.
Also, my hair has become dull and flat. If I were back in Korea, I think my youngest little girl students’ response would be, “Um, Teacher, your tummy is very big and good for the baby, but your hair is not very beautiful.” And they would be right.
And my dreams are taking over. This is in line with the hair theme. I had a really unfortunate dream last night. It’s kind of gross but as this is a pregnancy blog, I’m not really apologising. I first dreamed that a giant gray hair was growing on my tongue so I had to pull it out. I started pulling it out and it just kept going and going and going. Finally I got down to the follicle, pulled it out, and it took a giant chunk of my tongue out with it. Fortunately since it was my mouth it healed pretty quickly. BUT STILL.
Then I dreamed that I was inspecting my scalp yet again for gray hairs and not only did I find them, but I also found giant, broad, flat hairs (think tapeworm) with ultrasound images all over them. I pulled them out and put them in a Ziploc bag and showed them to my mom, who rightly broke out into hysterics. Um, what kind of doctor do you go to with this ailment? I’m thinking a psychologist.
Now for something a bit more pleasant.
Bebe is very, very active. She appears to have acquired an Erector Set in the past few days and is frustrated with the fact that she can’t be as industrious as she would want.
According to the produce emails, she can now hear us very well, so we’ve been trying to include her in more discussions. B will often talk to her through my belly and she will just as often respond with a punch or a kick. We’re attempting to teach her some Morse code so she can weigh in on topics more advanced than “Do you know that mommy and daddy think you’re perfect?”
“Well, yeah. Duh,” she’ll punch. What she really want to discuss is the Euro zone.
I’m finally going to show you a belly picture. Let’s all be honest and admit that pregnant belly photos are really only interesting if you know the person and if said preggo belly is big. I feel like I’ve been writing about my pregnancy long enough now that you guys pretty much get the gist of me and might *kind of* appreciate to see some physical evidence of the Beebs. Oh, I’ve got your evidence:
And one more spurious thing, now that I’ve got your attention:
I don’t get Pinterest. Sorry, just don’t. I sincerely want to like it but I don’t really see the point of it. And I REALLY don’t see why every woman in the history of humanity right now thinks it’s the best thing on the interwebs. It’s a bunch of cutesy pictures haphazardly placed all over a webpage.
Here’s a piece of advice to all of you who are now intrigued and want to go check out Pinterest: do not under any circumstance sync it up with your Facebook or Twitter. If you didn’t want to be bombarded with pictures on FB of how that girl who sat four rows behind you in high school redid her upstairs bathroom last month, you will certainly not want to see 8,000 pictures of wine glasses with feathers hot-glued to them that she liked, too.