As of Saturday, I am officially 13 weeks pregnant. Which means that the painful first trimester is now over. Let us all do a dance of celebration.
Also, I had my second ultrasound today. It’s still too early to tell if this baby is a he or a she, we should find out in another seven weeks or so. I’ve taken to referring to it as a “he” because I have a really strong feeling that it’s going to be a boy. Of course, I could be wrong. Lord knows it wouldn’t be the first time.
Although that reminds me, you know how some women have cute little nicknames for their unborn babies? Things like Peanut, or the Bean, or whatever? I haven’t quite been able to adopt any of those. It doesn’t bother me at all when other women call their babies that, it just doesn’t feel like me. I usually just call it “the baby,” or “the kid,” or sometimes just “it.” Which made me feel very cold and un-maternal, and it bothered me that I couldn’t come up with any sort of nickname that I was comfortable using.
Dave recently started calling it The Sprog. I have no idea what it means – maybe it’s a British thing? – but to my American ears, it sounds like a cross between a spawn and a frog. And considering what we’re dealing with here, that just seems oddly appropriate.
So here’s the latest picture of our little sprog:
He put on quite a little show for us, jumping all around in there. He practically did a somersault. I love this picture because you can see one little leg in mid-kick, and he’s holding one hand up by his face. I know I’m biased, but that is one damn cute little sprog.