This week our baby is the size of an apple. She's busy moving amniotic fluid through her nose and upper respiratory tract, which helps the primitive air sacs in her lungs begin to develop. Her legs are growing longer than her arms now (thank gawd, or at least we could probably be on a TLC show if they remained the same length), and she can move all of her joints and limbs. Although her eyelids are still fused shut, she can sense light. If you shine a flashlight at your tummy, for instance, she's likely to move away from the beam. (Why the hell would I do this?) There's not much for your baby to taste at this point, but she is forming taste buds. (S/he will have a very delicate pallet I'm sure and require only the best champagne--Andre.)--according to babycenter. (PS. This is not to infer that we will give our child champagne.)
So here's the thing--I didn't realize that I was going to become fat and squishy. Yes. I realize I'm pregnant and going to gain weight. I get that. I just didn't realize that I'm going to first get squishy and gain fat--everywhere. I've gained 2.4 lbs (When naked and zero accessories. This is probably what you find at a weight watchers meeting, too. I used to remove my shoes to weigh in. You know, because my shoes made me fat.) 2.4 is half way to five which is half way to 10 which is half way to 20. Basically, I'm about 2.3 seconds away from having gained 20 lbs.
Theory--I have an evil enemy who has tricked me into believing I'm pregnant, has given me multiple false pregnancy tests, and much like on glee, someone has broken into the ultrasound room and create a video for me to see that looks as if it is my baby but it is actually either--someone else's sonogram, or an alien.
Other theory--there is an alien who lives inside of me and all that alien can have to exist are donuts, nachos and ice cream. This, much like in Twilight, is why I must have those things against my will--because I'm selfless like that. (Like when Bella had to drink blood out of a styrofoam cup--only I'm more environmentally conscious and do not use styrofoam.)
Final theory (for today. Maybe. Or, maybe just my final theory before 11 AM.) I am actually pregnant and this is normal for me to get squishy, crave sweets, and eat nachos for dinner 2 nights in a row, and have zero desire to work out (but blame it on the weather), and really want to go to bed at like 9 pm. Ok. Maybe 8. I apologized to Ben for being boring last night. He said, "It's ok." I stared at him and he adjusted and then said, "You're not boring."
In order to help me out this morning I stopped at Starbucks and got a nonfat chai. This, is usually a big treat because I rarely stop. Treat ruined when weirdo at starbucks sings to me, "Good Morning, How are you today?! can I delight you in something caffienated?!" (Ok, I hated this crap in music class in elementary. I hate it even more when I'm trying to order my tasty treat.) Should I be a nice person I would have sang back. However, because of the alien/evil force of nature that has now taken control of my body, I rolled my eyes ordered, and judged silently in my car.
Other tragedy today--my hair is still awkward.