I finally buckled and subscribed to babycenter's mailing list. Every week they email me a newsletter reminding me that I'm pregnant. As if I could forget that there is a whole other person taking up residence in my belly and making it hard for me to fully empty my bladder. Last week babycenter informed me that the baby was the size of an avocado. I can generally gauge the size of an avocado because I love avocados and have eaten my fair share. Then this week they informed me that the baby is the size of a turnip.
I'm confused. Aren't turnips small? As in smaller than an avocado? As in, my baby is shrinking? Perhaps I have only been exposed to avocados that have been genetically enhanced to the point that they are mutant sized. Or perhaps I am getting a turnip confused with a radish. (As a sidenote, I misspelled radish in the 8th grade spelling bee. I have never been the same.) So, to clear any confusion as to what size my baby is, here are some visual aids.
This is an avocado:
This is a radish:
This is a turnip:
I still think an avocado is bigger than a turnip. I've had several people ask me why people always compare the size of babies to food. I think it's because pregnant ladies are defined by food. First its "Oh my goodness get anything that resembles food or eating away from me. The only thing I could possibly put near my mouth is a pickle." Then later, "Oooo, cookies. Oooo, roast beef sandwiches. Ooooo, macaroni and cheese. Oooo, coco krispies. Give me one of everything in the grocery store." Pregnant women are constantly thinking about food.
My belly is noticeably growing. I was trying to put my socks on the other day and found it more difficult than it used to be. I leaned back on the bed, stuck my leg straight out then bent it slightly at the knee. Then I stretched my arm out as far as possible and managed to catch my sock around my big toe. I stretched just a little farther and finally got my sock on, but it took some effort, and a generous helping of grunting and huffing. When I said to Rusty "Hmm, it was hard putting my sock on." He said "Well you certainly were dramatic about it" and walked to the bathroom. He didn't even offer to help me put on my other one. My next sock was much easier to put on as Rusty wasn't in the room anymore and I didn't have anyone to be dramatic for.
But seriously, my belly is growing. I'm looking more like I'm pregnant and less like I'm severely bloated.
We heard the baby's heartbeat last week. The doctor was having a hard time finding it at first, all we could hear was the whooshing of fluids and my heartbeat. He caught it for a second, then lost it. Eventually he found it again and we got to listen for several seconds. It probably would have been easier if I had been able to stop laughing. I couldn't help it! The baby kicked the microphone thing and it made me laugh. In my mind it was a kick of prenatal attitude. Also, we might possibly have discovered the most perfect and amazing and splendidly wonderful name ever known to man.