I had my 16-week doctor’s appointment on Friday. Everything seems to be a-ok so far. I’ve only gained 6 1/2 pounds (go me), and the baby appears to be just fine. And, although I had seen the blinky-blinky-blink of the heartbeat on the ultrasound, I had never actually heard it. So Friday was the first time that I got to hear the heartbeat on the doppler, which was very cool.
I also scheduled my 20-week ultrasound, when we will finally find out if the sprog is a he or a she. That will be on September 19th, which I love because it also happens to be Dave’s birthday. So that’ll be a fun little birthday surprise for him.
As for the boy/girl debate, I personally have a feeling that it’s going to be a boy. But y’all are welcome to start placing your bets now, if you’d like.
Other than that, I learned on Saturday that something has happened to my brain, and I am no longer terrified to buy baby things. I guess hitting the 16-week mark is finally making it all start to seem “real.” (Don’t ask me why it’s taken so long.) I went to Target on Saturday, and I bought a few 4-packs of onesies and one of those pajamas with the little footies in them. And some baby socks, which, I’m sorry, but is there anything cuter on the planet? Well, ok, maybe the baby shoes. Everything I bought is either green or yellow, since it doesn’t really make sense to buy anything gender-specific right now.
I showed Dave all the stuff that I bought when I got home, but I didn’t open any of the packages of onesies. I kept thinking, “well, I might have to return them, so it’s better not to have messed with the packaging…” I have no idea why I thought that. I don’t know when I’ll finally be rid of this fear that something bad might happen, but it’s getting old.
In any case, I guess I must’ve been dreaming about baby clothes last night, because the first thing I did when I woke up was grab those packages of onesies and rip them open like it was Christmas morning.
And it’s weird, because I already knew it was there, but for some reason, when I opened the one that has a picture of a duck and a little chick on it, and a caption that reads “I love mommy,” I started to cry. Happy tears, but still crying.
It was just… there. The word “mommy” and this little teeny-tiny item of clothing, and the knowledge that someday soon, we’re going to have this teeny-tiny person in our lives who actually fits into this small item of clothing, and who thinks of me as “mommy.” It felt simultaneously overwhelming and wonderful.
I mean, my god, this onesie is so small that my cat couldn’t even fit into it. It’s that tiny.
(I’d guess the cat is more in the 12-18 month sizes, although I haven’t tried to put any baby clothes on her to test my theory. Yet.)
So there’s that. Overall, I’d say it was a pretty great weekend.