Dear Moe (Week 12)

Twelve weeks! You are entering your second trimester, little bean, and you're getting bigger. You're about 2 inches long - from the tip of your little head to your bum - and my uterus is starting to pooch out a little.

And we have our first appointment with Dr. P. on September 1 (after which we'll do a bunch of blood work), and an ultrasound on September 8. I'm excited for that - I'd like to see you again, and hear your little heart beating nice and strong.

We're going to throw a party in honour of all the friends and family who have been so supportive of us in our journey to get this far. It will be on Saturday, October 17. Hopefully you'll be able to feel all the love around you - we're even expecting some guests from out of town who would like to come and celebrate with us.

As our confidence increases, so does our willingness to plan for the future. I'm doing a lot of reading about the birth process, giving some thought as to how we would like things to go (with the understanding that nothing in this process has gone according to plan, and why should it begin now), we're going to look into pre-natal classes, and we're taking stock of what people are giving us and what we need to get for you. It was very surreal to start a registry for you, Moe. It felt like I might be jinxing things, but I think you are a strong little bean with the resilience of your parents.

And I have to be resilient, because I've been feeling like crap lately. I think the nausea has gotten worse, along with the dry mouth. Granny bought us a box of popsicles on the weekend, and we're pretty much all the way through them. (She offered when she saw me sucking on an ice cube.) And I'm a little concerned about how much sugar I'm eating. I find that juice and Sprite and ginger ale settle my stomach and take care of the bad taste in my mouth, but that's getting to be a lot of sugar. So I'm trying to be a bit more aware of that. Also, I'm pretty sure I'm lacking some protein right now - I can't face eggs or meat. So I've been eating nuts out of desperation. (Although apparently, this could increase your chances of childhood asthma. Good grief, Moe. Is there anything I can eat?) When I finally meet with Dr. P., I'm going to ask him about diclectin.

But, having said all this, even if the nausea goes (please no) for six more months, it's worth it for you, Moe. Keep growing, keep soaking up our love.

The Big Bloat

I find it truly amazing that although I am barely showing at all, and I've only gained between 2 and 5 lbs (depending on time of day, and at least 2 lbs have gone straight to my boobs) since conceiving... I am so bloated that I look like I've swallowed a small beach ball.

Seriously.

*shakes head* Mind boggling.

Good News

Appointment with OB-GYN scheduled for September 1. In the meantime, the receptionist is going to see what she can do about getting me going on IPS screening in the next week. The rather narrow window for IPS is open now.

Dear Moe (Week 11)

How's it going, little bean? Apparently, you're moving all over the place - doing water ballet! - and you have all your parts. Nice work! Your next task will be to grow, grow, grow! We even occasionally cheer you on, saying, "Grow, Moe, grow!"

I wanted to tell you an interesting story. When we were visiting your aunt in Toronto at the tail end of our vacation, we shared our news with your uncle's sister, Paula. She gasped, and said, "My mother had a dream." It turns out that only a few weeks before, Bella had told her that she dreamed I was pregnant, and that it was a girl. Paula's response to her mother was, "From your lips to God's ears."

We should be getting a phone call from Dr. Pascali's office sometime this week to book an appointment to go in and get all checked out. If we haven't heard from them by Monday, we'll call and inquire. We have heard only nice things about Dr. P., and the internet is full of positive comments about his care. We feel that we're in good hands - we just need to get to see him!

We're starting to think about all the things we need to do to get ready for you. For one thing, we will need to get your room ready. I'm going to enlist some helpers to paint it for me (likely a nice yellow). I'm also going to bring some old Winnie the Pooh calendar prints to Costco and get them laminated. We have to clean out the office room in order to put the day bed down there, and then we can move the trundle bed from your room into the red room. It's like Tetris, but with furniture. We're also thinking about the various things we'll need to buy for you, and I've started saving up for them. Car seats come to mind, for sure.

You're slowly becoming more and more real to me. I'll be really happy to see you again in an ultrasound - we'd like to do IPS screening, which should be done pretty soon.

In the meantime, I'm reassured by the fact that my lower abdomen is getting kind of puffy, I'm still really tired (although your Daddy says I've always been this sleepy, this is just a good excuse), and the nausea is still very much a factor. Since all these things mean that you are still growing, I'm a happy camper.

Dear Moe (Week 10)

Ten weeks! That's quite a milestone, little bean. I'm super proud of you. You apparently have finger nails (which I find insane), you can swallow, and you are starting to move around. I can't feel anything, though - you're only the size of a prune. But in the next few weeks, you'll double in size.

The last couple of days haven't been a whole lot of fun for me - my stomach has been so upset; I'm stunned that you've been able to get any nutrients, as my food seems to pass through me so quickly. But today feels a bit better - yesterday, your Daddy made me some Japanese rice, and that usually calms my stomach. My biggest problem is always having dinner. Around 4pm, my nausea really gets the better of me, and there's nothing I want to eat. We're hoping that I'll be hungry tonight for the picnic.

If you're wondering about "Moe" and where that came from, your Daddy chose that nickname. It's short for "moyashi," which is a Japanese bean sprout. So until we have some idea of whether you are a girl sprout or a boy sprout, you'll be known as "Moe".

Our OB-GYN question should be settled this week. We're hoping that your Grandma will be able to get us in to see Dr. P. sooner than originally planned - he wasn't taking anyone new until October, which just isn't going to work for us. If Grandma isn't able to do anything, we'll try Dr. L. Either way, Moe, you're going to be born at the Civic. There's just no question. Your Grandma knows everyone there, and both your parents were born there. Some of your grandparents were even born there. And your Grandma has worked there for more than 30 years.

Our friends and family are already helping us get ready for your arrival - and you're not even out of the first trimester yet! Your aunt is giving us a whack of stuff she's been saving - a high chair, a play pen, a jogging stroller. Other dear friends have promised us a crib. And while we were visiting in Mississauga, Laurie set me up which a bunch of gorgeous maternity tops. They will be ready for us when we need them. I plan to keep all this stuff at Granny's until the time is right.

So you may have guessed that as word of your existence has spread, we've started throwing caution to the wind. Everyone's just so excited. If hope and love have anything to do with it, Moe, you'll arrive safe and sound. We're keeping our fingers crossed.

Dear Lima Bean, Week 9

Hi, sweetie. You've got most of your body parts in place now, and your wrists, ankles, fingers and toes are formed. You're starting to really look like a baby, and you're the size of an olive (about .9 inches).

Tomorrow is likely the last day of the injections and pills, and I'm a little nervous about it. But I think you'll be just fine - stay nice and strong, and keep growing. I've been trying to eat a nice balance of foods for you.

The nausea hasn't been too bad while we've been on vacation - I think the fresh air really helped. (But the smoke from the firepit and from the fireworks didn't.) The key seems to be eating steadily, but never too much.

But you are worth any amount of nausea. Keep growing, and keep soaking up our love.