Baby: A walnut! This was the best comparison I could find, as all the apps have decidedly gross options this week: a prune, a date or a kumquat. The first two are horrible dried out squishy things, and the last has a terribly unfortunate name. Walnut it is.
What I’m cooking: The webbing on the fingers and toes has disappeared, and my grub now has elbows and knees! The eyes also apparently are now moving to the front of the head instead of on the sides, which weirds me out too much to think about for any length of time.
Main symptom: Still starving, and the fatigue has returned with a vengeance. Basically all I do these days is sleep and eat, much like my cat.
What’s on this week: A lot! We have the NT scan on Thursday, followed by officially telling family and friends on Thursday/Friday!
I’ve been so looking forward to this week, for more than one reason. Firstly, this Thursday we get to see our little grub again, and he (still convinced it’s a boy!) will be looking much less blob-ish. The scan is the Nuchal fold test, to give us an indication of the chance of chromosomal abnormalities (usually more focused on Down Symdrome). While that’s a little scary, the chances of it occurring are very low, so I’m not overly anxious about it. I’m more anxious about seeing our bean kicking about! You’d think after having a scan a couple of weeks ago, my stresses would be put to rest, but I’ve read so many horror stories of a perfectly healthy, growing baby who looked fine on a 7 week scan not showing a heartbeat at the 9/10 week scan, so my anxieties remain. According to numerous miscarriage risk sites, my level of risk is now minute, but that doesn’t stop me from worrying just a bit.The other reason I’m excited about this week is that we’re going to be telling people our news! It’s been so hard to keep a secret for this long, especially from family. We were originally going to wait until the end of the first trimester (the standard 12 week mark), but since we’re having the scan this week, I don’t see the point in holding out longer. If there’s a healthy baby on the screen on Thursday, the family is going to hear about it!
Amazing, right? Only 3cm long, and yet it’s a proper baby looking grub! Now just to grow him/her bigger and bigger! Speaking of bigger and bigger, I made the mistake of jumping on the scales this morning. I’ve been swinging between about 0.5-1 kilo gain (1-2 pounds), but jumping on the scales I’m up 1.7 kilos (nearly 4 pounds). Must have been that curry I had for dinner! I have been eating quite a lot lately, but I seem to be constantly starving, so I figure if my body is telling me I need to eat, I’m gonna eat!
I also made the mistake of treating myself to a real coffee this morning (not decaf). Well, my digestion certainly had something to say about it! Not 15 minutes later and I was rushing to the toilet. Perhaps that 1.7kg gain has lessened slightly now…
I also shocked dear Mr Nester the other night with the extent of my hunger – we ordered takeaway chicken for dinner, and I shit you not, I turned caveman. Usually we strip the chicken, divvy it up, and make a nice salad or veggies to go with it. No such luck this time. As soon as that cooked bird came out of its bag, I was on it. Wild eyed, ripping chunks of flesh off the carcass and shoving them unceremoniously into my gaping yaw. I wish I was kidding. Mr Nester seemed to be considering using his knife and fork to fight me off, if only so he could also have some dinner. I ate close to half a chicken in the space of about 5 minutes. What a lady I am! Between that and the seemingly endless pregnancy gas, I am really vying against Princess Kate for most ladylike pregnant woman. Oh my.
Lastly, I made the mistake of thinking I was a normal, 30 year old woman on Friday night. I went out for dinner, then (oh God why?) dancing. I had a ball! Saturday morning Jane however, did not. I was fairly certain I’d been run over by a truck and had just forgotten about it. Every muscle in my body screamed at me yesterday, my head throbbed, and I had to lie down for, oooh, the entire day. I’m still not 100% recovered. No more dancing (in heels! What a moron!) in the near future, methinks. More trackies, less sparkly dresses. I barely fit into it, anyway.
Speak to you soon,