Everyone keeps asking for a baby update, so here goes.
I'm about 5 1/2 months along now. A couple of weeks ago, my tummy had a growth spurt and went from being vaguely roundish to roughly dumpling shaped. I am now a walking impersonation of a pot-sticker. :-)
I have attained the beginning of the pregnant woman waddle. My belly button, which was once a distinct innie, has completely flattened out. And just this morning I re-adjusted my office chair so my stomach and I have adequate room. (Cool people who know the meaning of the phrase "dogs barking; cannot fly without umbrella" can go ahead and giggle now.)
Junior here has officially been nicknamed Thumper. The kicking has become pronounced enough not only to be felt from the outside but to be seen from the outside. We generally have a good session of kicking in the afternoon around 3 (that would be now) and another just before bed, in addition to the random bumps sprinkled throughout the day. I frequently interupt some conversation I'm in the middle of to look down at my stomach and exclaim, "What are you doing in there?"
Yesterday Shawn was watching my tummy ripple through what felt like baby ballet practice (grand battements would be my guess, or maybe Italian changements). "That must be a trip," he said.
"What? The kicking?"
"Just the whole thing."
Yes. Yes, indeed. It is a trip. Well put. In fact, what's weird about it is how very un-weird it seems.
It amuses me how interested everyone is in whether the baby will be a boy or a girl. It's in the standard repertoire of three questions all people ask when they find out you're pregnant, even strangers. How are you feeling? When are you due? Boy or a girl? Sometimes they occasionally tack on a joking reference to twins. If you're talking to a woman, she might ask you about the nursery theme. But those are optional.
Is this just a question people ask out of habit? You know, like "How do you do?" or "What do you do for a living?" The sort of things we spit out without thinking about it? Or are people really that curious?
"The oysters were curious too, weren't they?"
"Aye, and you remember what happened to them..."
"Poor things!"
I mean, baby boys and baby girls really aren't all that different to start out with, aside from an anatomical difference only the diaper changers will notice. Otherwise the only way you'd know is whether the baby is wearing pink or blue (and I generally disapprove of the over-genderizition of kids in this country, but don't get me going).
I like to mess with people when they ask me this.
"Do you know what it is?"
"A baby. A human one, I hope.""Are you going to find out what the sex is?"
"Eventually I think I'll notice.""Well, that's good. Ten fingers and ten toes, right?"
"You got something against kids born with dexterous handicaps? My mom was born with an extra finger, you know."
This probably slightly evil of me. But hey, when you're a walking potsticker you have to amuse yourself somehow.
And the questions don't really bother me. Neither do the belly pats or the tales of labors past that women enjoy sharing with greenhorns like me. That's all okay. The only thing that sort of bugs me is the would-be fortune-tellers.
"Are you going to do a natural childbirth?"
"Yes."
"No, you won't. You'll get to the hospital and be begging for drugs."
Well, seeing as how you just had your crystal ball all polished up, why did you ask me?
That's rare though. Mostly, I think, people are just excited for you and want to talk about it, which is fine. I'm excited and want to talk about it too, so it works out. I spend a lot of time holding my belly and grinning at it.
So that's how we are and what we're up to. Shawn and I are currently researching the best sort of cloth diaper to use so if anyone out there knows anything about cloth diapers, drop me a line.