15 Weeks

I’m at 15 weeks today!

On Friday, I got to listen to baby’s heartbeat on the Doppler during my monthly appointment. At first, it seemed like the doctor was having a hard time picking anything up. She kept moving it around and pushing down harder. This made me nervous, but she assured me she could hear the baby moving around a lot, which is what made it hard to pinpoint the heartbeat. She eventually found it, and it was perfectly healthy, but I didn’t actually hear very much. Ultrasounds are much more gratifying. But baby continues the trend of being wiggly and unable to sit still, which at this point, is a good thing. I can’t wait until I can actually feel some of the wiggling.

According to all the books and websites, this week baby is the size of a naval orange and is sensitive to light. Baby is practicing breathing and wiggling. Baby has also been making me feel exhausted lately, even though that was supposed to happen last trimester. Naturally Contrary may be a more apt name than I thought.

I still don’t think I look pregnant. My jeans are becoming a bit tight, so I’ve stopped buttoning them, but my work pants continue to fit just fine. Baby is already starting to be expensive, though: I’ve purchased maternity pants and shirts (on the hope that eventually I will start looking pregnant), I had to buy new underwear to accommodate the fact that other parts of me are changing, buying healthy groceries (including a boatload of fruit, which I seem to be obsessed with) is adding up, and the medical bills for routine visits, lab work, and ultrasounds aren’t cheap, either.

As a bonus on the medical front, I have a chronic disease, psoriasis, that I’ve been unable to treat since we started trying to conceive, and it’s getting out of hand. One of the only safe treatments during pregnancy is UVB light therapy, so I now get to start the day three times a week in a special light box getting cooked.

So baby, know that you are loved and wanted enough for all this expense and trouble. Now if only we could come up with a name for you. I’d hate for you to have to go through life being called baby. Just think of all the Dirty Dancing jokes you’d have to endure.

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