Babe is supposed to be the size of an onion, but all those size comparisons seem pretty arbitrary. I mean, lots of onions I've seen have been smaller than a peach, which is is the fruit Babe was supposed to be five weeks ago. Let's go with real measurements here and say that Babe is around five inches long. The crazy part, though, is that Babe has fingerprints now.
Fingerprints. That blows. my. mind. (Josh was relieved to know that in the event that Babe is implicated in a crime via fingerprints, he/she will have an alibi a.k.a. my belly.)
I'm well into the second trimester now and feeling much better than I was a couple months ago. The nausea has abated, I have more energy, and we're going through about two gallons of milk a week. I have been getting more headaches, which thankfully respond to Tylenol, a drug that up until pregnancy never worked on my headaches.
Just this week I had to start rubber-banding some of my jeans, and when I'm home, I'm almost always in stretchy pants (as if I weren't before the baby). The baby bump isn't much to look at yet, but it's there. Kind of.
See it? Kind of?
This baby is necessitating some lifestyle changes, the most imminent of which is a move to a bigger apartment. When I say imminent, I mean that we're moving this month. In two weeks. We found a bigger apartment for less money than what we're paying now, which is all good things in my book.
And once we have a second room I can start executing the nursery. I am so excited for the nursery. My ideas have yet to be solidified because we don't know yet whether Babe Wilson is a mister or a miss, but come month's end, that will be settled as well. (Don't worry--I'll surely make a poll so you can officially say "I knew it!")
Just think: fingerprints. This babe has fingerprints. Fingerprints.