Tuesday, August 23rd, 2011
Week two of Tummywatch! Wherein thanks to the black shirt, or possibly the angle, I still just look chubby. And thanks to the setting sun, I look as if I’m impersonating a saint in a Renaissance painting.
In person, I am starting to look pregnant enough that people feel completely comfortable commenting on my knocked-up state. Last time, I was six months along before that happened, so for me, that whole thing about your body remembering what to do and just giving in is proving to be true. On the first go-’round, it took my body a good 36 hours of birthing to figure out what to do. I’m taking this early showing as a sign that my body is a quick learner and will do me a favor and cut that number by at least half.
As further proof of the obviousness of what’s going down: I’ve incited a few belly-touches. Pregnant ladies current and former, how do you feel about belly-touches? Personally, I evaluate them on a case-by-case basis. A friend’s compulsive belly-touch doesn’t bug me. When an acquaintance or stranger dives in, I’m generally not angered, just a little weirded out. Is there any other situation, outside of one-night stands and those involving money changing hands, where people feel it’s acceptable to fondle someone they’ve never met? I can’t come up with any. Maybe I should start charging. College fund!
According to Parents.com’s weekly babytracker, girlfriend is now pear-sized—roughly 5 inches long and weighing about 5 ounces. I also read that right now, her skeleton is changing from cartilage to bone, which I found especially interesting because I’ve been craving dairy. Big glasses of milk, yogurt, cheese. Can’t get enough. Even though in the past, I’ve not exactly enjoyed being pregnant, I’ve always been fascinated by all aspects of the process of growing someone. I love that my body guides me to what the baby needs and doesn’t need—the mere thought of a glass of wine, for example, currently makes me ill. Believe me. That’s a rapid departure from the norm.
I continue to feel better each day. In fact, I’m actually surprised by the waves of nausea when they hit. My energy levels are still inching up. The less miserable I am, the easier it is to picture the reality of what’s happening; the little girl that will soon join our family. Last week we had the pleasure of meeting our friends’ newborn baby girl. They happen to already have a son just a little older than Roy. Of course I grilled the trailblazers, and they were honest about sharing their experience about what’s been harder and what’s been easier this time around. I’m happy to report that the hard parts didn’t scare me. I am so excited and ready. Mentally, that is. We still haven’t started the official Accumulation of Girl-Baby Stuff. Twenty-three weeks left for that.
Pears photo credit: Blaine MoatsAdd a Comment