Today is the former. I was 17 weeks yesterday, leaving roughly 23 weeks to go. That seems like such a long time. Granted, I will accomplish plenty in that span of time, but it still feels so very far away. I think this must be why I am less-than-normally enthused about this week's bump pic (which is still probably pretty high on an average person's enthusiasm scale - do you know how hyped I get about life in general?). I also hate my non-made up face washed out in the harsh white light of our bedroom but
HEY
beggars can't be choosers. I could not be more thankful that I have a baby bump to take photos of in the first place.
Here's this week's pic:
Is the bump getting bigger? I can't really tell. Our all-knowing baby book tells me that Peanut is about the size of my hand (roughly 5"), but this is also Jeff's kid, so it could be a giant, and weighs about 3.5 ounces, the size of a smallish chicken breast. Again, given that this is (I'm pretty sure) Jeff's kid, it could be a behemoth.
I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I actually know it isn't a giant (not yet anyway). How?
Because if it was,
I WOULD HAVE FELT IT BOOGIE BY NOW!!!!
No child of mine is constantly sleeping, so I know its in there shaking its money-maker. Its just not heavy enough for me to feel it. Hopefully soon enough...grow baby grow!
In other news, I shared my blog with oodles of new readers the other day - yay! I'll be quite honest here, I had NO idea you'd all be as intrigued as you were. I figured most of the interest would come from my friends back home, or far away, who don't get to see me daily or weekly, like most of you do. But heck, I'll take it! You guys have a way of making a girl feel loved!
What I was also not expecting was for my "human cooking" reference to be taken literally, as in I indulge in cannibalism and am Facebooking about it. Even before Peanut technically existed, Jeff and I have referred to the process as "cooking a baby." My mom thought it was weird.
Maybe she was onto something.
I cannot believe I have to clarify this, but when I talk about cooking a baby or cooking a human, I am referring to the process of growing a little human life inside my lady parts (let's keep it PG people). I am apparently missing the maternal gene that causes me to refer to Peanut as "the miracle inside me" or really any reference that includes some form of the word "pregnant." It just seems so...rainbows and butterflies. And trust me, this DOES NOT feel like rainbows and butterflies.
So, now that we've established that I am WITH CHILD and not EATING PEOPLE, let's move on.
Oh, turns out that was all the news for today. Maybe another time I'll bore you with the story of why Jeff and I decided to call it Peanut in the first place. That can be another story for another day.
COUNTDOWN TO THE GENDER SONO: 24 days, 13 hours, 55 minutes...
