It all starts as a little bump. Nothing more than a lima bean – but even smaller.
What is that even supposed to be? There’s a whole lot of stuff going on there – 171 beats per minute – but it really just looks like a blob. How do you even begin to think about it as something real. And then, only a few weeks later, it grows things like a head and feet and whatnot and suddenly you realize that you’re really going to have to name it and wipe its nose and change its diapers and drive it to friends’ houses and pay for college and explain to lots of teachers where its sarcasm came from.
Oh, and you’ll also have to stop saying it. For the record I’ve been switching between he and she – mainly he in the old fashioned “gender neutral” sense.
The movement was just crazy. I expected a little wriggling or something – but the big thrusts and sudden jumps were almost unreal. He’s a powerful little guy.
I think he’s flashing gang signs or something. We’ll have to work on that.
I guess I should have something more profound to say, but I’m just wondering who in the world could possibly think that I should be in charge of another life? The Woman does – and her opinion matters more than mine.
So, let the countdown begin – one week left of the first trimester. How’s that for pressure?