It's all beginning to dawn on me

After a restful day, we spent some time reading each other the "Fifteen weeks" chapters of several different pregancy guides. Depending on which book you read, the baby is variously 8, 9 and 10cm long by now - I think of it as laboratory mouse size. Reckoned it wise not to share the thought. She may experience 'fluttering,' the early signs of kicking.

It's all pretty fascinating at this point. She sleeps badly, is occasionally sick, is starting to enjoy the pregancy, and her appetite is returning. Mood swings are caused principally by her getting utterly shagged out, and leaving it too late to grab food or rest. There is another midwife check coming up (blood tests for diabetes and some other stuff), and that's about it.

Considering that the baby currently weighs around 30g, about a fag-packet-size lump of butter, and in six months might weigh more than one hundred times more (yup, honest), it's frankly not bloody surprising that she's tired, irritable, knackered, volatile, sick, stressed, alarmed, confused... Apparently her heart is already pumping some 40 per cent (two-fifths in old money) more blood. That's like me walking up the stairs. Once.

And then at the end of it, the poor bugger has to squeeze the whole shebang out of ... well, you get the drift. It's all beginning to dawn on me.