I know, I sort of dropped a bomb and walked away yesterday. I'm sorry. I wanted to steal Kate Middleton's thunder. I couldn't help myself.
I've been hoarding this information for some time now. The new babe is due mid-May, and I've been in the know since early September (the dog's been in the know since late August, because he had psychic dog powers and instinctively starts sleeping on my side of the bed when I'm pregnant). I'm coming up on 17 weeks, getting close to the halfway mark and even closer to finding out if it's a boy or a girl. You all have two weeks to get your bets in, so get on it. And think feminine thoughts, I already have a husband, son, boy dog and boy cat. But then again, boys are fun and girls turn into screaming, hate-mongering banshees later in life...so you know. Either way is cool with me.
If you're interested in the fruit comparison for my fetus, I'm sorry to disappoint you. Apparently my pregnancy calender thought it best to compare in terms of rodents, and for the record, I've got a gerbil sized baby in my belly at the moment. Unsettling, I know. Did you know one of the side-effects of being pregnant is weird, super vivid dreams? Yeah, can't wait for what dreams follow the mid-sized rodent in my womb revelation.
So far, this pregnancy has been much easier than the first in terms of symptoms. I haven't technically thrown up at all, and the worst of the morning sickness lasted a mere 10 weeks. Compare that to six months of horrific, I-don't-even-want-to-look-at-food, vomiting twice a day morning sickness and this time around is a cake walk. All the other minor stuff pales in comparison.
And aside from the stats, I'm very happy at this point. It's still somewhat surreal and scary, but I'm starting to come to terms the fact that it's happening, and it's okay. I think it was meant to be this way. A little bit frightening, a little unpredictable and completely transformative. How else could it possibly be?