Saturday, March 31, 2007


Another amazing video... according to it my little love should now be able to suck its own little thumb. Enjoy!

call me flatliner...

Well, I finally got what I so desperately wanted and needed: a week off of work - sick leave, as certified by my general practitioner. Though, a bit worried I am: it's my blood pressure. As we all know, hypotonia ain't anything even close to resembling a sickness, but thanks to Google I now know that hypotonia in pregnant women can cause serious risks to the baby, should the placenta not get blood in sufficient quantities.

Whoopty-doo. Every morning when I measure my blood pressure now it comes out to between 90-120/40-50... the systolic value of which is okay, but the diastolic is WAY too low. This morning I had 99/41, even. You could also call this "half dead" by all standards of medicine. No wonder I am having a hard time staying awake for more than 30 minutes and staying focused on anything for more than 30 seconds. I have been staying home since Thursday, and those past two days have been a real breather for me: being able to tackle things at my own pace, being able to rest whenever I felt the need to, and not having to sit on my ass and focus on something work-related for 8 hours straight, when I can't even focus on the question whether or not I am actually awake to any sufficient answer most of the time.

I know it must sound ridiculous, complaining like I do over a mere office job. But aside from the fact that I have been hating this job for the better part of the entire last year already, I am really incapable of being productive anymore. What was the best distraction from the horrible daily production-routine before - creative intermezzos - are now my worst nightmare. Hello, all my creativity is currently bundled up in my uterus - talk about being creative in the most literal sense, there is nothing much left in the brain department for such notions anymore. Currently I am happiest at work when I get the idiot chores to do, those that don't require any resemblance of thought or creative spark, where I can just labor off my time without being too involved in anything. I am just too tired and exhausted to do much else, and the highlight of my day is when I open the door to our apartment after work, drop my shoes and jacket, and can fall headfirst into my bed or onto the couch and stay there for the rest of the day.

Yeah, I blame it all on my non-existent blood pressure. Most of it, anyway. I will take my notes with me to the gyn on Wednesday, seeing if he has anything to say about that. Fact is, I have never felt better and more at ease since I am pregnant than I did in the last couple of days. Less tired, less exhausted, less braindead. More in tune with myself, when I can listen to what my body is telling me to do. Seeing to it that I rest when it asks for it makes me much more productive during the rest of the day and percentually more awake than if I force myself to sit tight and focus during "office hours", ignoring the needs of my body for my paycheck. That's not how I want to spend my pregnancy, and I'll see how my doctor can be my friend and help me - if at all. There's a reason why I now live in Austria instead of the US anymore... and I mean to take advantage of all the advantages we get here.

Wednesday, March 28, 2007

the secret sisterhood of pregnant ladies

It would seem like there is such a thing, indeed. And it's much like the secret brotherhood of dog owners - you know: those random meetings of strangers in random parks where their incredible connection of owning a dog sparks animated conversations that otherwise would never have happened. It seems like people that have otherwise nothing in common but the ownership of a dog suddenly make the greatest conversationalists, and they never seem to run out of things to say, either. This has always greatly fascinated me, when I am not capable of holding a small talk conversation with a stranger much beyond "Good day."

Not so today. As I was standing at the counter of the laboratory passing all my pregnancy info down to the nurse who was about to draw my blood and receive my cup full of pee, I suddenly felt a pair of eyes focussing on me as I said "I am at the beginning of the tenth week." As soon as I was sitting down awaiting my turn, the owner of said pair of eyes sat down next to me and said: "So, you are 9 weeks along?"

Startled, I turned around. I am not the type to strike up conversations with strangers, especially not while waiting to get a needle poked into my arm. Next to me was a (very) young girl, sporting a quite obvious bulge herself. She had used the formal German on me, which made me feel like an old hag in comparison to her, but I could see that she barely must have passed into her twenties herself - if at all. As I smiled and nodded she grinned and told me that she was 25 weeks along. And then the most amazing thing happened: I found myself in a quite engaged conversation with this stranger, sharing stories of nausea, vomitting, and constant sleepiness - not to mention weight gain. She told me about the examinations that are yet ahead of me, and which hospital she chose to deliver her baby. I told her about which hospital I am currently thinking about, she told me she was going to have a girl, I told her that I am going to have a big surprise. She told me how her mother wasn't happy about the baby at first but now is besides herself with glee, I told her how my mother insisted on turning 50 before I turn her into a grandma, and how that didn't work out. I even told her about the baby I have lost. But mostly it was gross symptoms talk, and who went on sick leave for how long and why. Interestingly enough: her gyn put her on sick leave for a whole month because of exhaustion. Considering how I can barely sit through my days at work lately, much less concentrate on anything I am doing, I might mention this to my own gyn when I see him next Wednesday. Some time off would be neat, especially before the next big production will hit us.

All this went on through both of us having our blood drawn, waiting for the bleeding to stop, having band-aids stuck on us, and walking the few hundred meters down to the bus stop/subway station, where we wished each other well and went on our separate ways. I was amazed, very much reminded of those people in doggy parks, and had to giggle to myself. Seems like I was initiated into the secret sisterhood - and I guess this'll get only worse as I will start to show and be quite obviously pregnant. Quite an interesting experience, for sure she wasn't the kind of person I would usually have much to say to.

Waiting for the lab results now. I am not sure what is tested - I have seen abbreviations for toxoplasmosis, HIV, blood sugar and specific hormone levels, among a few other things I have no clue about. I guess it's an extensive screening that'll be repeated in a few months time to see how this pregnancy is affecting me and/or the baby. I'll have my next gyn appointment a week from now, which I am obviously quite looking forward to. I missed seeing my little baby - and whereas it was something most closely resembling a worm with a big yolk sac last time, next time I am sure we'll see a wiggly baby-looking thing in there. I will also get my "Mutter-Kind-Pass", the official document containing all my and the baby's data and all test results, as well as my weight gain and circumference as we go along, and probably also an appointment with my hospital of choice for the measuring of the thickness of my baby's nuchal fold (to rule out defects like Down Syndrome). I am very excited, even though my Geo won't be able to go with me to see his baby wiggle on the ultrasound:

HE'S GOT THE JOB, and he will start working on Monday! Welcome to the company's new Assistant Manager of Production!

Finally, things are falling into place, one by one. :)

Friday, March 23, 2007


This completely floored me today. Click on the image below to see what my baby must be looking like about right now. But that's not what got me. It's what it's doing. It's how it moves. How it opens its mouth and how it moves its hands. It's how all of this is happening inside of me AS I TYPE, and me not feeling a thing of all of this! How surreal is a preganncy? How surreal is it to see such movement and knowing it is going on RIGHT NOW, yet being completely unaware of it? How miraculous, how wondrous, how completely mind-blowing?

The reality of this video, knowing that my baby is right now about as old as the one shown, has just hit me like a freight train... with incredible wonder and amazement and gratefulness. It's not a "bunch of cells" any longer... it's not an embryo any longer. It's a fetus, completely human looking. And it's moving about inside of me, it's alivea and growing. And it looks like this:

Letter to Pumpkin, 9th week

Welcome to the third month my love! I am exhilarated that you are still with us, and now, even though the risk is still high for another 3 or 4 weeks, I am convinced that you are here to stay, no matter what. :)

You certainly are making your presence known quite strongly, even though you are still invisible to anybody but me (- I am already fantasizing that my tummy has grown because of you, for sure some of my pants don't fit me anymore!). My only consolation is that in a few weeks time the nausea should subside, and my energy levels will pick up again as well. Though, I do not have much to complain in reality. I have not once vomited because of you. I have heard of women who have to take medication against their nausea, and cannot even keep fluids down, or leave the bed all day long. I guess I am lucky - yet I have a hard time imagining that I could possibly feel any worse. Your mama can be a big wimp, sometimes.

Wimpy also in the emotional department, I guess. Yesterday I had my first bouts of real anxiety because of you, and the change of pace and lifestyle you will mean. Questions of what I will be able to provide for you, what I will be able to teach you, or if I will be able to change your diaper without throwing up, or even forget to feed you at regular times. Ask our cats, they know what I am talking about. Will I be able to teach you good behavior at a very early age like my parents insist is very easy and very possible if only I am consequent with what I am doing? Or will I end up a hysterical chaotic woman trying to shuffle everyday chores with a screaming and tantrum-throwing child hanging at my legs at all times, leaving the house in pyjamas and dissheveled hair because personal hygiene will be a luxury I simply won't have anymore because of your demands? Will I - much like my usual self - rather accept you throwing tantrums in public than to raise my voice to discipline you and cause a scene that has people staring at me when we are out? What does "disciplining" mean, anyway? Where do I draw the line in strictness, and what is being too lax with you?

I have a few examples in my circle of friends and family that have had babies a few years ago. On the one end of the spectrum of extremity we have the parents that run after their toddler all day long quite literally with their hands hovering protectively in a radius of about 10 cm off her head, just in case the child should fall. This child is allowed in the living room only, with her parents, the door to all other rooms shut tightly, and all furniture somehow made toddler-safe or pushed against the walls entirely. The kitchen is off-limits to her altogether. She has to sit down when she eats and stay put until she is done, and her mother religiously observed all recommendations for nutrition for children under one, down to the very scripture. On the good side of this: they are consequent with their "nos", and as a result the child is quite well behaved and doesn't throw tantrums knowing well that this kind of behavior doesn't get her anywhere.

She is, what my friends on the other end of the spectrum of extremity would call a "trained monkey" - the epitomy of all that is bad and evil in child-rearing. Their children grow up without the word "no" altogether, and learn under the principle of "trial and error" without any restrictions to speak of. And if that means running around the apartment with a large kitchen knife, or drinking a cup of coffee at the tender age of 5, or having a sip of champagne(!) at 11 months(!) old - so be it. They do not tell their children what not to do, they ask them kindly, hoping for the "correct" response - which they almost never get. They have no daily routine, the 5-year-old still sleeps in his parents' bed (along with the toddler), and show no respect for authority. On the good side of this: I have never seen a more independent and dexterous 5-year-old in my life. Through his unrestricted experimenting and doing whatever he feels like doing without any kind of consequences he has learned to be careful, and letting him cut an apple into slices with said large kitchen knife is no cause for concern anymore, he handles it so well.

There are many other examples, most of which lay somewhere in the middle of said extremes, some tilted more this way, some more that.

I find even the mere thought of what kind of mother I will be too challenging to really dabble with it much. It gets me dizzy and makes my head spin. Not to mention that thinking of myself in terms of "motherhood" makes me feel like my youth just went soaring out the window for good.

Alas, your grandmother said such thoughts and fears are common. An acknowledgement of my struggle which she immediately followed by a "But don't get hysterical. I don't want a whiney grandchild because of you."

Yep, that's your grandmother for you - a goodhearted woman, kind and caring and full of great advice, who would rather chew her own tongue off than say something that could be misinterpreted as acknowledgement, consent, agreement, encouragement, compliment or even adoration. :)

Oh, good news about your Daddy, too! Guess where he is right this second... well, guess! I think you did well squeezing your tiny thumbs - today he was invited at his potential employers for the fourth time, after 2 interviews and 1 trial day. Sounds to me like paycheck negotiations are finally on schedule - why else would they have asked him in again? Certainly not to tell him that they have changed their mind afterall. Could have done that over the phone, right? Right. :)

Let's hope for the best. Just like I do for you, my baby, and for myself and the challenges that being your mother will certainly be.

I love you,

Tuesday, March 20, 2007

Letter to Pumpkin, 8th week, 2nd installment

Baby, it might get a little uncomfortable for you today, a little rough swimming in my bodily juices.

Of course I am not exposing you to record-levels of adrenaline and other fear-induced hormones on purpose, but a teeny weeny voice inside of me insists that it'll only serve you right, considering what you have put me through last night during and after dance class.

No, your mom is not vindictive, my love.

But, for future references: go see your dentist twice a year. No, really. I know they are big mean sadists whose only purpose is to hurt you more than you think is humanely endurable, and who will enjoy your pain immensely, for it is what they feed on, and it is what bury in their backyards at midnight to grow more evil dentists from the dirt, to empower their evil army of dental practicioners that sooner or later will take over the world with their drills and hooks and saliva suckers - but they are a necessary evil. Of course in your first years I will make sure that this is being taken care of and I am fully prepared that you will hate me from the core of your being for it, but I won't always be around to set up doctor's appointments for you and make sure that you observe them. One day you'll be responsible for your own teeth, and when that day comes, listen to what I tell you today:

Don't do what your mother did and refuse to see a dentist for 7 years. 7 years is a very long time, and it is very likely that a lot of pain will be your payoff for this stupidity. Don't let your (quite possibly inherited) panic of dentistry interfere with your health, you'll regret it. Just like I am today. Imagine, I need my own sister, your aunt, to come with me (after she has already called for the appointment for me), so it can be guaranteed that I will not get up and walk out of the waiting room in my panic. The dentist who will see the wreckage in my mouth today labels himself "dentist for the scared". See? I can't even go to a regular, normal dentist that every other normal person would go to. I need the specialist for chicken-shit.

Good for me, however, I can use you as a reason for them not to hurt me today. They probably can't do x-rays on me because of you, and I refuse to have anything stuck into my mouth without being properly anesthesized... and by properly I mean I want to be close to unconscious. Of course they can't do that either with you residing inside of me, so I'll play it cool and tell them to "just look" and walk out of there feeling really accomplished, like I have done something for myself today.

On days like today, you better look to your father as a role model. Your mother is a big wimp.

Please grow healthy teeth,

Thursday, March 15, 2007

Letter to Pumpkin, 8th Week

Well, my baby, today we have officially finished 7 full weeks together, and are officially in our 8th week of pregnancy! I do admit that I already miss our weekly trips to the gyn, because not seeing him for another 3 weeks means I will not be able to witness your growth the way I had over the course of the past 3 weeks! It's maddening, especially considering that week 7 supposedly marked a growth-spurt of doubling your size, which should put you at a whopping centimeter by now! It drives me nuts that I will not have another look at you until early April... you are really giving me a lesson in patience now, as you doubtlessly will for the rest of my life. Why not start early, right?

Oh, I have to tell you: your Daddy is currently working a "trial day" at the company that he applied for and got invited to a second interview - I am sitting on needles here! He will be there until 6PM, but we won't know until Monday whether or not he got the job. I am quite confident that he will, but as you will figure out in some years, there are always factors that can unexpectedly interfere with what looks like a "done deal", especially when it comes to jobs and money. At any rate - you should have tiny little fingers by now, so I strongly urge you to squish your little thumbs tightly for luck for your Dad!

I am almost out of work for today, we'll go see your grandparents then, where we'll wait for your Dad after his trial day. You have no idea, my love, under how much pressure you are putting him now to really tackle the job issue, with your arrival pending in the not so far future. He's a very good man, and he really wants to make sure that he will be able to provide for you as best as he possibly can. He's even trying to start up his very own business at the side, all for you and your future. It's amazing how much you have changed our life already, tiny little speck that you still are. I am sure those changes are just the beginning though, the tip of the iceberg so to say. Looking very much forward to seeing what else you have in store for us - other than nausea and narcolepsia, that is... ;)

I love you!

Wednesday, March 14, 2007

daily woes...

Well, it's a whole four weeks until our next appointment (counting from the last one, that is), and time is moving as if through sticky honey. My life is an uninteresting blur of such exciting things as dragging myself to work every morning, collapsing on the couch when I come home, nap in front of the TV until it's time to go to bed and I can finally sleep. Inbetween I drag myself to pee a little too often, and whatever's left of my time is equally shared between knitting the baby blanket, and fighting down the urge to pray to the porcelain goddess.

Highlights of my week (other than doctor's appointments) are limited to Monday's ballroom dance class with Tia#R, Tio#E, Bee and Bern, Tuesday's "Desperate Housewives" and "Grey's Anatomy", Thursday's "Germany's next Top Model", Friday's trip to see my parents, Sunday's lunch with my grandparents and "Nip Tuck" on Sunday night.

Rinse and repeat.

And yes, I mentioned a series of TV shows and labelled them "highlights of the week". :(

Sex? Forget it. My boobs are a huge sore mess, and whatever time I have outside of work and other chores I prefer to spend sleeping or at least napping.

Have I mentioned this before? I think I'll sleep through giving birth, if this continues like that.

Though, don't get me wrong. I am not complaining about feeling like shit. Every wave of nausea and every narcoleptic attack reminds me of our little baby growing inside of me, and I am nothing but exstatic over and thankful for that. Still - feeling like shit is never a good thing, especially if I am already boring myself out of my own mind - which is astounding, considering my regular life is already a dead snoozer to most.

There are good news, though, too. Geo was invited for a second interview with a company on Monday, and he'll work a "trial day" tomorrow, after which will be decided if he gets the job or not. Needless to say, I am anxious and excited for him to get it - our one-income-household isn't cut to support a family with baby, and certainly not when I am on maternity leave, getting only very little compensation money.

Wish us luck!

Friday, March 09, 2007

My heart belongs to you...

Honestly? I lack the words to properly describe what I am feeling, how wonderful today has been. I still cannot wrap my mind around this tiny miracle in my belly - this miracle with its even tinier beating heart. What a gentle flutter, what a rush into life! Last week there was nothing, today I have a tiny little baby with a visible heartbeat.

A heartbeat!

Our baby is alive and well and growing, measuring 4.7 mm today, head to rump.

I am so thankful, I am so thunderstruck, I am so humbled in the face of such a wonderful miracle.

The little heart was beating, and the world around me stopped. My baby is alive and well! It's well!

And it's supposed to come on Halloween! I'll call it Pumpkin, from now on!

Letter to the Booger, Week 5?

So, my dear baby... whatever week of pregnancy we really are in, you don't have many excuses left not to show yourself later on today on our next ultrasound. I don't necessarily expect to see your little heart yet though, considering that you may be younger than I thought, so I am all open for positive surprises!

Surprise me!

You know, I have spent much of today surfing the internet and mentally comparing random 5 week ultrasound images on Google with my last one. I came to the conclusion that everything looks just spiffily normal, but somehow that doesn't help me calm down. It seems like everytime I go to the doc you seem to be giving me phantom pains in my lower abdomen that convince me that I am only minutes away from miscarrying you again, it's ridiculous. The moments until I will see you on screen will be so infinitely long...!

But! Your psychic Daddy is still convinced beyond the shadow of a doubt that you are fine, and that you are a strong one, and that before long you will be quite a handful. And your Daddy usually is right about such matters. :)

You know what else I read on the internet today? (The internet? Oh, it'll be your best friend before you are two years old I am sure... just be patient.) I read that my boss is obligated to provide me with an adequate place to rest and lay down at my place of employment, and that the time I spend resting and laying down actually count as work time, not break time, and therefore has to be paid. Is that cool, or what? You'll be born into a great country, my love! Well, it has its major flaws and an inherent uncoolness that oozes out of its every pore, but you'll grow to like it, I am sure. And in summers, don't forget, there's always México!

Now, off of work I am. We'll hopefully see you in about 2 hours, my baby!


Thursday, March 08, 2007

the law in Austria

So, finally I have done a little bit of reading up on the law, as far as my status as pregnant employee is concerned. And good thing too, for today I was assaulted by my boss with the prospect of *gasp!* overtime!

Let me elaborate:

A pregnant woman, by law, is protected from being fired or losing her job for any other reason (layoffs, etc.). If her job ishard physical labor, all-day standing up, or if she is exposed to heat, cold, wetness, fumes, noise, etc. her employer is obligated to offer her an alternative position during her pregnancy, that is child-safe. Should he be unable to do so, he is obligated to send her home during the duration of her pregnancy, while still having to pay her the full amount of her paycheck.

Overtime is prohibited, a total amount of 40 work-hours per week may not be exceeded. Work on Sundays and holidays is forbidden too, as well as working nightshifts.

After the completion of the 5th month of pregnancy, the woman is not allowed to work under time pressure and/or pressure to perform anymore.

8 weeks before the estimated date of birth, a woman is forbidden to work under any circumstances, as well as 8 weeks after giving birth. She still collects the full amount of her paychecks during that time.

After that time, a woman can choose to stay at home with her child for 2 years while collecting monthly "motherhood" and child support payments amounting to about € 600 per month. Should she choose to stay home for only 1 1/2 years or split her 2 years in half with her husband (mother stays with child for 1 year, father stays with child for one year), the amount of money she collects every month is a bit higher.

Her employer is obligated to take her back once she comes back from maternity leave.

In my case? I will start my official period of maternity leave at the end of August. I plan on using up my entire 5 weeks of paid yearly vacation before that, meaning I will stop working at the end of July. Until then I will take it slow, despite the fact that one major production is coming up in spring, and I will drop my graphic stylus at exactly 4:30PM and go home, instead of pulling 12-16 hour days, and working weekends in order to get the production done, as I have done numerous times before.

If my boss tries to stress me with this production, I will point him to the law passage that says that I am not allowed to work under time pressure/preformance pressure anymore, for this'll happen just around the time when I'll end my 5th month of pregnancy.

And the reason I am so giddy about this already is that I just talked with him on the phone, and he asked me, all panic-like, if I think that I'll be able to finish the current magazine on time without pulling overtime in the last days. I answered, very calmly, "No. I don't think so." He started to freak out, talking about long shifts and working weekends in order to be able to observe the printing deadline. I listened to his yap-yap-yapping, and then I asked him, equally calm: "Are you aware that by law I am not allowed to do overtime anymore?"

There was a long pause. A long pause. I grinned. Finally: "No, I wasn't aware of that."

I think you can imagine how the conversation ended after that. :)

Gotta love Austria... I do so rarely enough, but in times like these, I wanna be nowhere else in the world. Well, maybe in Norway, that is, for I heard that stay-at-home-moms collect regular paychecks for their work there.

Tuesday, March 06, 2007

what it boils down to..., that I think I am simply too impatient to be properly pregnant.

I mean, c'mon, 40 weeks? How does anybody survive 40 weeks waiting and hoping for something so badly, without losing one's mind?

I can barely get by from one doc's appointment to the next, and I only know about my pregnancy for 2 weeks!

And yes, you are reading the blog of a person who's almost too impatient to finish typing one sentence in order to get to the next in order to be done typing this entry already, and who mostly blankly stares at other people's moving mouths without registering a word being said, simply because I can't wait for them to stop talking already. I am the person who will give up on almost everything if it doesn't work on first attempt and within the first 10 minutes of trying. The worst projects that my boss can throw at me at work are the long term ones: 40 page brochures, 400 page catalogs. I get bored after 2 pages, and need to move on to something else. I have no determination to stick anything through, because I lose my nerve and my patience with absolutely everything and everybody.

I am supposed to be carrying a child for 40 weeks?

Gimme a break, people. My booger hasn't even been visible yet on an internal US, and I am already waiting for my tummy to bulge already. That's the kind of person I am, really.

Not to mention that I am a worrier. Probably the biggest one you'll ever meet, mostly thanks to genetics. For that matter, if the worry-gene keeps on multiplying the way it does from generation to generation in my family, I can only hope that Geo's 50% DNA participation has some ace up its sleeve to counteract it, or I already feel sorry for my future grandchildren, who'll have a parent that carries the DNA of 4 extreme worry-warts. And even worse for my great-grandchildren, should I live long enough to see them.

I have read more about "blighted ovums" and other horror-stories of empty sacs, or embryos whose hearts never started to beat until their mothers had D&Cs scheduled in week 8, and non-viable pregnancies than is good for me and my re-appearing brownish discharge and cramps.

3 more days before my next US. Would I be religious, I'd pray for seeing a heartbeat as "scheduled", alas... I'll just believe in justice, and that no woman should experience what I experienced twice.

Wish me luck.

Friday, March 02, 2007

Letter to the Booger, Week 4?

Hey, baby... well, aren't you quite the mischiveous one. Fooling us on your age, will you? My doctor told me that, contrary to the math and what he has told me last week, I am not actually at the end of week 5, rather at the end of week 4. You are a bit too small to the point of invisibility to be older than late week 4/early week 5.

But - I am still so proud of you! Even though we couldn't actually see YOU, which quite worried me, but not at all my doctor, your amniotic sac has quadrupled in size since last week, and we could even see your yolk sac - or what my doctor said was your yolk sac, I just saw a tiny bright spot, about as big as your entire appearance last week. I asked about you, but he said that this is quite normal, you are just younger than we expected, and that your yolk sac is a wonderful sign that you have properly implanted where you should have.

Good baby. :)

Just keep it up, okay? We are eagerly waiting for your little heart to show off next Friday - since you are a week younger than at first assumed, it should start its engines sometime this week.

I can tell you, my love - since I know about you, time has never passed slower. The days from appointment to appointment stretch like chewing gum (- which is bad for your teeth, btw!), and never seem to end. Of course it doesn't help that you are tormenting me with these cramps and this brown discharge that your sibling has put me through before it left us, so you can probably imagine the emotional wreck I was by the time I made it to the doctor's office yesterday. I blurted out about these cramps right away, but he didn't seem too concerned, asked me how exactly they felt like, and then reassured me they were just a sign of my ligaments stretching, considering my growing uterus and increasing weight of it.

Oh, but was I glad that he got to see this discharge with his own eyes after the internal ultrasound. He glanced at it, smiled, and said: "Perfectly normal, don't worry about it."

Okay! I guess I should feel better now... just don't turn this stuff into blood, my love, okay? Hold on to my uterus lining for dear life, or you are grounded, and I mean it! No TV until you are eighteen!

That said - I must tell you how exciting it was to see the growth that has happened since last week. It is quite miraculous, really, especially considering how I notice nothing of all this as it is happening inside of me, how I am completely oblivious of all the things you are going through right now. Some kind of Mom I am, huh? I can't wait for the day I will feel you kicking me and turning this way and that. For when we can see your growth and follow your progress with our own eyes, and can feel your foot or your butt or your head by putting our hands on my belly. I cannot imagine anything more beautiful right now. :)

Oh! I am knitting you a blanket right now! I just somehow felt this crazy itch to do just that 2 days ago, so I went right after work and didn't mind spending € 50 on wool for my project, just like that. I bought 20 balls of the snuggliest wool you can imagine, and I have already used up 2 1/2 of them in just one day! I hope you'll enjoy it later, seeing as you'll be born in late fall, and winters here (- well, with the exception of the last one) aren't generally of the mild type.

Okay my baby, I'll let you be for today, now get back to your growing!