If you define pregnancy as 40 weeks, and the doctors do, then 20 weeks is halfway. But halfway can be a little misleading. It’s halfway in terms of duration only. The baby boy is already fully constructed, with respect to all his parts. From here on, he’ll be doing a lot of fattening up and getting stronger. He is, however, not half-newborn-size. Not at all! Isn’t that confusing? He’s estimated to be a little under a pound, which is, of course, ahead of the growth charts, because I am tragically genetically predisposed to grow a giant baby. I know. It makes me want to cry too. We expect our little bruiser will be at least nine times his current size before he is ready to greet his public. Which brings me to the next thing.
This morning, I did what I often do. That is, look at myself in the mirror with a mix of awe, horror, and befuddlement. Then I said what I usually do. “Honey, I look SO pregnant today!” And I do, as you will soon see. And Jasper’s response? “Yeah, you’re pretty much the size I thought you’d be at the end.” Um, what? Please, now review the growing expectations housed in the previous paragraph. I will wait while you allow it all to sink in.
Okay, so it’s probably clear to you that at the end, I will be much larger. That’s just physics. Or geometry? Whatever is the discipline of fitting things inside other things. The discipline of adding more water to an already full water balloon...
My dear, sweet Jasper of course rushed to assure me that my unexpected rate of growth is fantastic and when it comes to growing babies? I am clearly the BEST at it. Then he made me an omelet. He’s no fool.
So, now that you’ve enjoyed a brief glimpse into our morning (you’re welcome), let’s talk about how big this baby really is. I’m going to stick to the standard week-by-week fruit and veggie scale, even though our charming little guy is measuring a week ahead. This week we only have a length... he’s as long as a 10.5-inch banana. But much fatter, of course.
Given this information, I decided to measure my uterus. Awesome, right? It’s no wonder he kicks so much -- he doesn’t have room to stretch out!
Our bananas were only 9 inches:
And, since you’ve already been prepped to expect an adolescent manatee, here’s this week’s belly shot:
Halfway, people. Halfway. Baby needs to grow nine times bigger... deep breath.
The stats:
Weight gain: I do not plan to share with you my weekly weight gain, because, hello? that’s none of your business. But it’s currently sort of fascinating to me. To date: 8 pounds. Which is a smidgeon *under* the norm listed in all the books and such. And doesn’t it look like so much more?
Number of people who have touched my belly: 7
Number of men, other than Jasper and medical professionals, who have touched my belly: 1 (that one shocked me too!)
Migraines this week: 1 (sadface)
Number of books the baby owns: 3
Number of those books that are about space: 1
Number of custom-made (by Jasper) glow-in-the-dark map-of-the-universe posters the baby owns: 1
Baby’s favorite music: pop country, folk, Americana/gospel
Baby’s favorite summertime treat: popsicles (or, in my own baby-speak of 30+ years ago... pockapoco)
Baby’s favorite foods this week: fruit, avocados, yogurt
Not that I would ever call you this, but I do find it amusing that the fruit of the week is Banana since I was called 'Banana Belly' by my pee wee league football coach. Clearly my delegated nickname had nothing to do with the size of another human I was nurturing, and more to do with the complex combination of choice of snack before practice and 12 yr old chubbiness. Tell Jasper I may need to hit him up for a homemade glow-in-the-dark-map-of-the-universe poster.
ReplyDeleteBanana Belly is an odd and hilarious nickname, but I sort of hate your coach. So mean! As for the poster, you could totally make your own -- we'll show it to you the next time you're over.
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