You are: A neurotic mess. When you feel pregnant you're sick or miserable, when you don't feel pregnant you worry that you're NOT PREGNANT.
Your baby: Is an embryo. Don't look it up online, it's not pretty, it's more of a lizard than and human. There, I said it.
Your doctor: Shrugs at you a lot because there's nothing she can do but give you vitamin samples and send you on your way.
You are: Comfortable enough to tell people you're pregnant, even if they might not believe you. Your clothes don't fit but maternity clothes are silly, so it's just awkward.
Your baby: Is a fetus, starting to resemble a human.
Your doctor: Can find a heartbeat for you to listen to, putting your mind at ease and making the whole world a better place.
You are: Looking pregnant and hopefully feeling adorable.
Your baby: Is a fun kicky little acrobat of happiness.
Your doctor: Can SHOW YOU the action on an ultrasound and check to see if all the parts are there, which is very comforting.
You are: About to have a baby, and so freaking obviously pregnant that no one misses it.
Your baby: Is growing at an alarming rate, gaining pounds, not ounces.
Your doctor: Can get this kid out of you if needed, and wants to see you all the time because there's stuff to do.
See? Quarters. Of course weeks 30-40 are just my guess because I'm barely there.
As for me, I do feel adorable, most of the time. Sometimes I catch myself in the mirror in the wrong outfit and the results are upsetting. I'm getting to be deeper than I am wide, I think, and that's startling.
I have the same conversation with five strangers a day... it goes like this:
Random person: Oh, are we expecting?
Me, trying to copy enthusiasm even if it's hard work: Yessss.
Random person: When are you due?
Me: June 11.
Random person: Do you know what it is yet?
Me: A girl.
Random person: Have you picked out a name?
Me: Nope, we're pretty determined to wait until she's born.
Random person: You must be so excited!
And by that time I can usually find an excuse to run away. Incidentally, I tried shortening the conversation a few times, they'd ask the first question and I responded with, "Yup, mid-June, girl, no names yet, we're pretty excited." But that was unfortunate because then they didn't have anything to ask and just blank-stared at me, not knowing where to go. They don't ask, "So what else are you up to?" or anything. Because when you're pregnant you're apparently not supposed to be up to ANYTHING but incubating.
It's so bad that on Tuesday, a gal at work came up and said, "I hear some congratulations are in order!" Okay remember people, I had an AWESOME Monday? So I responded with "Yes, I finally finished my pilot's license!"
I figured the thing wasn't even 24 hours old yet, I should be basking in the glow, right?
Wrong. She's like, "Oh that's cool, that's not why I came over though, Jen tells me you're having a girl! You must be so proud!"
Well crap. And she really did not care about my pilot's license. It took hours of determination and hard work, it was a unique adventure, I'm proud of it. Getting pregnant? I'll tell you a shocking secret... I had sex. And ladies, if you've ever convinced a man to have sex with you, you'll know that the challenge level is pretty low on that one. You don't exactly need a masters degree. The difficulty is even lower when it involves your husband (erm, well, if you picked him right). It'll make you happy, because nature has smiled upon your efforts, but since there are so few conscious decisions involving you "proud" might not be the right word.
But what do I know, right?