Checked Up and In
According to my internet pregnancy calendar (you can tell it's for pregnancy by the effusion of flowers and butterflies in the design), I'm a whole 30 percent done. "Thirteen weeks!" said my doctor. "Thirteen and a half," I corrected her, at which point she and Simon rolled their eyes and giggled about Those Silly People who are always adding half an inch to their height or counting their age in fractions of years. Ahem.
Yesterday's doctor visit itself was uneventful aside from the fact that I finally graduated from the nurse practicioner (the one who told me I could eat sushi, bless her heart, is going on maternity leave tomorrow) to the actual doctor, a nice older woman who hugged and kissed me when we said goodbye. Awesome. Also awesome is that I have now gained a total of two pounds. Two pounds! Look at me go! The books say I'll probably gain another ten this trimester, which should be...ah...interesting. I guess that's what the carrot cake is for. The most awesome news, though, is that last Friday's NT scan and blood test came back normal normal normal--another hurdle cleared, phew--and we're only a few days away from being officially in what even the strictest authorities will agree is the second trimester. (We typically think of the first tri being weeks 1 through 12, but some sources say it's 1 through 13. I hate that.)
By the good graces of the doppler machine, we were assured that the baby is still in there doing her(?) thing, heart whooshing away at 150 bpm. And you know how people say that the fetal heartbeat sounds like a tiny galloping horse? Not true, not even a little bit. The four feet of a horse make a one-two-three rhythm, you know, but a heartbeat--even a teensy baby one--just does that one-two lub-dub thing we all know so well. Hearing our baby's heart go whoosh whoosh, Simon said, "It sounds like it's twirling a lasso in there!" The doctor suggested we start looking for a cowboy hat that will fit a very small head. If she only knew who she was dealing with...
Speaking of Things People Have Lied to Me about Pregnancy...uh...About, feeling the baby move does not feel like the gentle brush of butterfly wings. It feels like diarrhea gurgles, hunger rumbles, or, occasionally, like some sentient being is testing out its appendages in anticipation of one day being able to use them to do things like wave bye-bye and hug and carry a full laundry basket up and down the basement stairs. It's not kicking or popping or fluttering; it just feels like a baby moving. In my stomach. Which, you know, is way cooler than imagining a flock of insects crashing around in there with their allergen-spreading wings and creepy antennae.
Wait, what? I haven't told you I can feel the baby move sometimes? Let me do it then: Hey guys! I can feel the baby move! It's craaaaaazy. Apparently this is fairly early to be making such claims, but I'm 95 percent positive that this is the real deal. "Sometimes I poke it to see if it pokes back," I confessed to my mom, after which she scolded me and said if I needed to poke something, use the cats. But I can hardly help it, now having the opportunity to interact with something I made that has reflexes and senses and fingers and toes and a downy pelt of hair covering its entire body, oh my!
When I say I made this baby, I of course should have included Simon, although these days, more and more, we seem to be the same person in two separate bodies (which just so happens to be not only necessary for babymaking but also way more fun). We've been caught talking in unison a lot lately, for instance, which is both adorable ("Aren't you two just like bread and butter!" the doctor said after we jinxed in front of her) but also a little disturbing, so much so that it prompted me to suggest yesterday that maybe we need a vacation...from each other.
While he was driving me to work after the appointment, we were bellowing along with Les Mis, and you know the part in "At the End of the Day" when Fantine is fired from her glamourous sweatshop job because her coworkers are spreading rumors about her being a whore? And all the other women are yelling (singing) "Sack the girl today! Sack the girl today!" and the boss, agreeing with them, says, "Right, my girl, on your way!" and that's the end of the song? Well, Simon and I, independently and spontaneously, both decided that the song wasn't quite finished and after "Right my girl, on your way!" we both said in our best haughty British boss voices, "I said good day, Sir!" If that's not a sign you've spent too much time with someone, I don't know what is. Thank god, however, that I still have my own mind when it comes to baby names. Otherwise, we might be welcoming into our family a little Jean Valjean come December, and that would be ridiculous. I mean, everyone knows that "Gavroche" goes way better with his last name.
Squeee! So exciting!
Giddyup!
The word "woosh" just seems so evocative of that moment when you hear your baby's heart beating. Even though I have never had such an experience myself. I don't know. It just seems to fit.
at least you weren't talking to your mom about Simon poking the baby
that would just be awkward
much like this comment
Oh, I'm so happy things are marching along so smoothly, but, honestly, no, no I don't know that part in Les Mis because I have been far too busy for the last decade or so watching reality television.
You can feel the baby move!!! Awwwhhh.
My "friend with all the kids" (as I tend to call her) told me that at first the moving feels like gas---less silly than butterflies. I'm glad she was giving it to me straight.
Since you think it's a girl there is always Cosette and Eponine. Just sayin'.
You are TOTALLY feeling the baby! With the boys, I did not feel them until 20 weeks or so. With Emily, I was 13 weeks.
I VOTE GIRL!
The best description I've heard of quickening was when Helen Jane said it felt like a dancing turd. I love that.
Ooh, I like this. Keep dispelling pregnancy myths. I feel like this is my new source for the TRUTH!
Bliss. Sounds like bliss.
I thought it felt like pop corn popping, sort of like the frist few pops of a jiffy pop. Amazing.
It sounds to me like you two are going to be fantastic parents. No matter the gender, this kids life at home will be a musical. What is more fun than that?
Any post that prompts me to hum a Les Mis song under my breath while reading is divine.
Also- I like Marius's name, but mostly in the song where he's all "My name is Marius Pontmercy" right before she says "and mine's Cosette!" (but it's BOTH names TOGETHER, which might be a little cumbersome once the kid learns about spelling and stuff...)
Haha! Jean Valjean is a great name! :)
yea! evan and i are so excited for you guys!! way to go!!