Week 35: Five

I can't believe I'm so close to having the little alien out here in the real world with me. We're pretty much set as far as having the necessary items to keep him safe, clothed and fed. But I'm still not sure I'm ready for this. The actual birthing process doesn't scare me nearly as much as all the what ifs yet to come.

• What if I can't deal with the crying?
• What if I can't breastfeed?
• What if he has colic?
• What if I drop him?
• What if he gets bullied in middle school?
• What if he's the bully?
• What if he gets some girl pregnant when he's 16?
• What if we can't afford college?

(Yes, I get a little ahead of myself sometimes.)

Regardless of all that, I have five (or fewer) weeks to figure out at least some of it. And my e-mail newsletter from Fit Pregnancy tells me:

At more than five pounds and between sixteen and twenty inches, your baby is becoming more ready for birth with every passing hour. She's the size of a small roasting chicken [again with the food comparisons]. Her nervous system and immune system are still maturing, and she's adding the fat that she'll need to regulate her body temperature. But, everything else, from her toenails to the hair on her head, is fully formed. If she were born now, she'd have more than a ninety-nine percent chance of surviving.

A 99 percent chance of surviving is pretty good. They obviously don't take into consideration the possibility of me dropping him.

As for myself, eight hours of sleep is a distant memory. If I'm not getting up every two hours to pee, I'm waking up to change positions because my hips are aching or my hands have fallen asleep or Baby is doing acrobatics. I am now convinced that lack of sleep now -- while seemingly unfair -- is preparing me for getting up every two hours to feed Baby once he's born.

At least then he won't be kicking me in the ribs or jumping on my bladder while I'm trying to get some sleep.

*Five - a cardinal number, four plus one; the number of weeks left in my pregnancy

Week 28: A bag of flour

With approximately three months left in my pregnancy, things are starting to get really real. I have started purchasing some items. The S.O. and I have created baby registries. My friends are starting to plan a shower. I've even started my hospital checklist. And we'll attend a birth class this month.

My e-mail newsletter from Fit Pregnancy this week tells me I may start to experience Braxton Hicks contractions around this time. For those of you who don't know (like me):

Braxton Hicks contractions  are "irregular, mild tightness or cramping, usually felt in the lower abdomen, lasts a few seconds and may increase during the night and while exercising. Unlike true labor contractions, Braxton Hicks do not progress in frequency."

The information about Baby is pretty interesting:

"Your baby has doubled her weight in the past month and is the size of a bag of flour. She now weighs almost 2 1/2 pounds. Her total length is nearly fifteen inches. Your baby's lungs are now capable of breathing air! This is big news. It means if the baby is born from now on, she'll be able to survive with less medical intervention. Your baby's main job right now is to put the finishing touches on major organ systems, such as her brain, lungs, and liver. As you can probably tell, she's also working on gaining layers of fat. Her body fat is about 2 to 3 percent. Your baby's eyes, which were covered by her eyelid folds at the sixth week of development, are capable of opening this week. Her sucking and swallowing skills are improving."

But the info on my changing body is a bit redundant now as I already see or am experiencing those things without being told. "You're getting larger, and as you get larger, you become more uncomfortable. Your legs may ache or cramp, it's hard to get a good sleeping position, and the baby is big enough to give you some sharp kicks to the ribs!"

Yep. You don't need to tell me I'm getting larger. I see it. Almost daily. Everything is more difficult now. I'm still working out, but at a much, much lower intensity. Just walking up and down the stairs has me out of breath, but I know how important exercise is, so I'm keeping at it. (In fact, I recently became a Certified Fitness Trainer! That should help motivate me to get back in shape after Baby is born.)

27 weeks: Pot roast baby

And we're back to food comparisons for my weekly update from Fit Pregnancy. They're also calling the baby "he" this week.

Your baby weighs about two pounds and is about 12 to 15 inches long, about the size of a small pot roast. If your baby were born now, he would have an excellent chance (85 percent) of surviving. He still isn't fully formed and would probably not be able to breath by himself. He would need to stay in an incubator to keep his body temperature regulated, and he would have a weak liver and immune system.

An 85 percent chance of survival is pretty good, but all the risks and complications involved with a premature baby, make me want to do all I can to carry as close to full term as possible.

With a 2-pound pot roast hitching a ride in my mid-section, I don't really need them telling me it's harder to bend over and tie my shoes. But I did find this tidbit interesting:

The volume of your amniotic fluid is reduced by about half. With less cushioning blocking the view, you'll be able to see bony knees and elbows poking out of your stomach when the baby kicks and turns. 

I have yet to see bony knees or elbows poking out, but baby is quite active. He stretches and kicks and moves around, either trying to make himself comfortable or to make Mama really uncomfortable. Earlier he was pushing quite hard against the outside, and when the S.O. pushed where I indicated, Baby kicked his hand away. I can't stop myself from imagining Baby thinking, Hey! Quit pushing on my butt. I just got comfortable.

As a side note, last night I dreamed about holding my baby and rubbing the bottoms of his little feet. It was a sweet dream and the first I've had of him being outside the womb.

Week 24: That's Bananas!

This week my unborn baby is about the size of a banana, so says my email newsletter from Fit Pregnancy. They also say, "It's time to schedule an appointment for your glucose screen, which checks for gestational diabetes; it is conducted between weeks 24 and 28."

I am not looking forward to the glucose screen because they accidentally ordered this test during my very first visit to my OB (at five and a half weeks). Those of you who've had this test know how pleasant tasting the goo they have you drink is. (Hint: It's not at all pleasant tasting.) Then you get to sit in the waiting room for an hour -- reading old magazines and/or watching "Regis and Kelly" -- to see how you react to the onslaught of sugar. I'm also a bit nervous because I have had a raging sweet tooth (especially over the holidays) and hope it hasn't caused major problems.

They tell me too that baby's skin is starting to become less translucent "as pigment is deposited, and it looks wrinkly because her body is making her skin more quickly than it makes the fat to pad underneath it. Your baby's unique hand- and footprints are forming." No getting away with burglary now, kiddo.

The bump is definitely sticking out there now, but I still think most people just think I'm getting chunky. So far, I've been pretty lucky to not experience some of the things that could be happening -- like heartburn, muscle aches, sore feet, and dizziness -- but I'm not so naive as to think I'm getting off scot-free. Besides, I've had my share of other stuff, like restless legs, achy ligaments and being bone tired.

I suppose I need to get used to feeling tired all the time. I don't expect that will change for a while.

Week 23: Sugar sugar

 How sweet. This week, Fit Pregnancy tells me my unborn baby can be compared to a bag of sugar.  

"Weighing in at a pound, and at eight inches long, your baby is starting to really look like a baby! You can compare her size to a box of sugar or a bag of coffee beans."

It also tells me:

"You'll notice now that what began as gentle wiggling will become poking and even sharp kicking."

That's for sure. Little Junior has been doing calisthenics lately, testing out his little arms and legs, and I'm pretty he's been doing somersaults or back flips, as well. He seems to really get active just as I'm trying to go to sleep. I have taken to telling him to just calm the heck down in there.

To be perfectly honest, it's sometimes a bit disconcerting to feel something moving around inside my belly. I can't help but have visions of John Hurt.

Week 22: Grapefruit

This week Fit Pregnancy is back to food comparisons, telling me my unborn is about the size of a small grapefruit.

They also keep saying "she." I understand this is better than saying "he or she" from an editorial point of view, but they use the feminine every week -- and not all of us are having girls.

With my mini-rant out of the way, I'll tell you Fit Pregnancy says:

"Her fingernails are almost fully grown, and her organ systems are becoming more functional and specialized. She has a distinct pair of lips, and her first canines and molars are developing below her gum line. She looks like a miniature newborn. Blood is traveling through the umbilical cord at four miles an hour, fueling her growth with oxygen and nutrients."

Which -- despite the feminine pronoun for my male unborn baby -- is pretty damn cool.

As for my changing body, they mostly tell me about yucky stuff (like yeast infections and anemia) and that "your uterus is certainly growing, but you can probably still bend over, sit, drive, and function fairly comfortably." Define "comfortably," Fit Pregnancy.

While the boy growing inside me is grapefruit size, I'm pretty sure I'm beginning to look a lot like I'm smuggling a watermelon under my shirt.

Week 21: Bear cubs!

My e-mail newsletter from Fit Pregnancy this week once again forgoes comparing my unborn child to food. This week, my little one is about the "length of a spoon" -- so not food, but a food utensil. It goes on to say the baby's current weight is about 10.5 ounces. "Ten and one-half ounces is also the size bear cubs are when they are born," it says.

Baby is about the length of a spoon and the weight of a newborn bear cub. And he's spending his time putting on weight by drinking amniotic fluid. His eyelids are developed, and even though his eyes are  still sealed, his eyes are active. That's pretty cool.

As for what it says about my changing body, I have to disagree:

Some women report feeling better and more energized at this stage of pregnancy than they have at any point in their life.

I feel pretty good -- much better than during the first trimester -- but not better than any point in my life.  With all that's happened this week, I am definitely feeling pretty good emotionally. And I'd say that's more important at the moment than how I feel physically.

Week 19: More comparisons to food

I made it to 19 weeks, and Fit Pregnancy is now comparing the growing baby to an apple. Wait. Isn't a lobster tail bigger than an apple? Maybe it depends on the apple. More specifically, they tell me the baby is between 5 and 6 inches long and weighs about 7 ounces.

More importantly, they tell me:

Loud sounds as well as any feelings you may have of stress or alarm may be communicated to the baby. The baby responds to these stresses by becoming more active. Practicing yoga and meditation can be good for your sense of calm and balance.

I have been trying to do some yoga, but I've never gotten the hang of meditation. I think it defeats the purpose if you spend the whole time wondering if you're doing it right.

As for the statement, "You may be popping out all over, with bigger breasts and a bulge above your pelvis," that's been happening for a while now. Although lots of people keep telling me I don't look pregnant. Tell that to my pants that don't fit.

Week 18: Lobster baby and hoping for help

Apparently, I fell off the Fit Pregnancy newsletter mailing list, because they didn't send me my weekly update this past Tuesday. With Thanksgiving preparations -- and my baby brain -- it didn't occur to me until now that I haven't posted anything about Week 18. And it's almost over!

After a little searching, I found the information they normally send me. (Do they really need to frustrate the pregnant lady?)

So, this week Baby is about the size of "a lobster tail" (OK, what the hell is up with these comparisons, Fit Pregnancy?) and "may be able to detect a glow if you shine bright lights at your belly."

As for my changing body, they're spot on when they tell me, "You may have aches and pains in your legs, tailbone, and other muscles."

But my favorite part of the week 18 information is this bit:

Now is a good time to talk to your partner about how your house will be managed once the baby comes. For the first few weeks, until you establish a new routine with your new baby, you'll be too occupied to cook meals, take care of pets, open the mail, pick up the phone, or do anything but breastfeed, soothe the baby, and sleep. We hope your partner is up to the challenge. If not, prepare to move your mother or another relative in for a time. Also consider hiring a postpartum doula or baby nurse to help out.

They "hope your partner is up to the challenge." I think I need to do more than hope, especially considering my mother can't move in with us, and I can't think of any other relative who could. And we certainly don't have the luxury of hiring someone.

I actually feel pretty confident about the S.O.'s abilities to deal with a little one. He spent quite a bit of time entertaining our friend's almost-2-year-old son on Thanksgiving while she finished preparations and I put my feet up. It was really endearing to watch him play with the little boy.

At least I know he'll be helpful in a couple years.

Week 17: More weird comparisons

It's time for my weekly update from Fit Pregnancy. As has become the norm in these updates, they compare the baby growing inside me to something I would never want growing inside me. This week it's soap!

"Your baby is about as wide as your palm, about six inches tall, and weighs about four ounces—about as much as a bar of soap."

As for myself, according to Fit Pregnancy: "You're looking pregnant, but not so much that it's difficult to put your socks on. You may even get that pregnancy glow, a radiance that comes from extra blood flow to your skin."

Frankly, I think I just look kind of fat. And tired. I don't think I have enough of a baby bump for people to think I'm pregnant. Imagine my horror when I imagine people will just think I've let myself go.

I'm so vain.

Week 16: Gerbil baby

I totally skipped the Week 15 update. One reason was that I was off on my babymoon and not really thinking about exactly what was going on in there. I figure Baby was happy getting sunshine and fresh pineapple. Another reason was that the update from Fit Pregnancy was kind of generic and not worth sharing.

Week 16, on the other hand, seems a little more exciting. My e-mail newsletter from Fit Pregnancy tells me:

"Your baby weighs about 2.8 ounces (79 grams) and is about 4 1/2 inches from crown to rump—roughly the size of a small gerbil. At any time, you will begin to feel fetal movement as your baby's bones harden, and she starts a big growth spurt. Your baby has plenty of room: At this point, she could fit in the palm of your hand. This is a great time to be a fetus. At any given time, she might be playing with the umbilical cord (which she's now able to grasp), putting her thumb in her mouth, or kicking at the amniotic sac."

I'm not going to get too anxious if I don't feel the movements of a 2.8 ounce gerbil inside me. It's probably already shown some movement that I just attributed to gas. There's plenty of that -- something nobody told me about before I got pregnant.

At the library this weekend, I picked up "The Real Deal Guide to Pregnancy." Other than, "You: Having a Baby," it's the only pregnancy guide I've read. It's filled with advice from real moms and not overloaded with horror stories. The best part of the book is that it says there's no such thing as a normal pregnancy. That doesn't stop me from comparing myself to the women in the book and worrying when things aren't happening that the book says may be happening.

I'm working on not worrying about worrying so much. Worrying is what I do.