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Baby stats:
Current size: 0.6cm
Weight: Still negligible
Aimee's key symptom: Fatigue
Comparable to: Drugged grain of long-grain rice
Developed this week: Eyes, gastrointestinal tract (which raises the question: are the eyes bigger than the stomach?)
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Kevin's thoughts:
I don't have a heck of a lot to say this week. I mean, it's only week 5, and the baby has gone from a
grain of couscous to a grain of long-grain basmati, which, if you're the size of couscous is a rather
large accomplishment, but to the rest of the culinary world, would only be noticed if it were the
only item on your plate (which may be the norm depending on which restaurants you frequent).
So, I'll talk about Belgium instead.
It was nice, as countries go. Decent food, friendly people, manageable distances from boatel to city-centre
(yes, I said boatel, and I meant it. A hotel that's a boat. Where one would normally expect a mint adorning the
pillow, instead we found life jackets). Cobblestones,
little bakeries, tilted brickwork and canals... everything I'd want out of a two-night stay in a European
country I previously knew nothing about.
I can appreciate a country where most of its citizens get around on bikes. This affinity has nothing to do with the
Aussie trip, by the way. Strangely enough, even though I've done that trip, and some cycling around Holland,
and Switzerland, and I cycle to work every day, I STILL don't consider myself a "cyclist". "Cyclists" wear
lycra. I don't. That's the difference. "Cyclists" look like they belong on a bike. I just look like I
can't afford a car.
And THAT'S what's great about Belgium. EVERYBODY looks like they can't afford a car. In fact, they look like
they can't afford a bike either, which is why the whole town is alive with the screeching of rusty chains.
Cycling is just a way of getting around in Brugges, unburdened by that elitist stigma it usually holds in
most automobile-based countries (or car-nations, if you will).
I'd fit right in! My folding Toreador bicycle with 17" wheels may look silly on the streets of Leicester
(admittedly, it does), but in Belgium, my shiny silver steed would be the first to be stolen from the
train station.
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I went to Belgium and all I got was this lousy waffle |
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So anyway, ate some frites and a waffle (as you do), paid far too much for a hot chocolate, wolfed down a
bucket of mussels with an opaque beer in a goblet, took some chocolate home to the co-workers. Been
there, done that, bought the Mannekin Pis corkscrew. Not like we'll use it, though, since I'm not
that into wine and Aimee can't have any. Oh, have I mentioned she's pregnant?
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Aimee's thoughts:
How fantastic is my life? I'm newly pregnant, I have the cutest husband in the world, and I'm in a gorgeous foreign country where the specialties are chocolate and fries. I don't know if I'm all hyped up on happy hormones or what, but it seems like nothing could be better than spending the weekend in Brugges, sleeping on a houseboat and getting to play with the baby ducks at the market. Bliss.
The only thing that could possibly make this week any better is getting to share our news with all our family and friends. We've never been one for secrets.
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In this week's Celebrity C-List Mag: Why is Aimee holding her tummy? |
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Okay, there was that time we came home for Christmas as a surprise... and I suppose we didn't tell anybody about our wedding in Australia... Hmmmm. Maybe we are good at secrets. In any case, this one seems a lot harder to keep than others!
I mean, you're just sproinging off the walls of your barge with the excitement and joy of it all, yet there's nothing to do but to bounce it between the two of you! After a while you just start to get dizzy with it all and have to calm down.
To make it even more inticing to tell, some people are guessing that we're pregnant! Two separate people have commented that I look particularly 'glowing' in the Belgium pictures. Is it possible to have a pregnant glow when the stick is literally still wet? Was I giving off Da Vinci style clues?
I don't think so. I think it's just wishful thinking from a few female friends.
After all, how come nobody looked at the pic of me eating fries and asked if I'd started smoking?
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Did you know? |
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If you're trying to have a baby, and you've got a preference of whether you'd like a boy
or a girl, keep this information away from your partner. Boy-sperm (XY) swim faster, where
girl-sperm (XX) live longer. Knowing this vital tidbit, and your ovulation cycle, you can
skew the stats in your favour.
If you want a girl, have sex a few days before ovulating - girl-sperm hang around in the
uterus for up to three days for the egg to show up.
If you want a boy, have sex on ovulation day - impolite boy-sperm will impregnate
like a rugby team, leaving the ladies in their wake.
If you don't care either way, just go on and have sex every damn day. Woo hoo!
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Aimee's anti-cravings |
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As far as I'm concerned, Aimee's lasagne and banana milk last week were just
normal-people cravings, like when people say, "Ooh, I could murder a McDonalds." However,
Aimee has definitely un-craved a few things this week:
Coffee: which she was kind of off anyway, but now the thought of it sickens her.
Chocolates: unfortunate, being in Belgium and all, but hot chocolate was fine.
Irish stew: don't ask me how you suddenly stumble across Irish stew, but, there it is.
Incidentally, she was able to polish off a bucket of garlic mussels. Don't know if that
counts as a craving, or just a sickening display of gluttony.
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Aimee's Book of the Week |
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 Your Pregnancy Week by Week
By Lesley Regan
Pregnant parents can't possibly read enough about their growing babies. We like to know the exact moment when the inner ear is being developed and when the baby starts floating around like a little astronaunt in the amniotic fluid. That's why this book is such a treasure. It's got tons of those LIFE pictures that not only TELL you where your baby's at, it SHOWS you. Brilliant. On top of that, it's a feel good book full of advice and in-your-favour timelines and statistics. It's the one book that you'll be opening all the time throughout your entire pregnancy. Perhaps even... once a week?
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People in the know |
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 Everybody needs a friend that's knows from the start. I was Cindy's, and now she's mine.
She knew we were going to start trying, but now she knows for sure!
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Did you know that hearing is the first sense a baby develops? That means we can
communicate with it, and if WE can communicate with it, SO CAN YOU!
Send Baby a B-mail!
Tell the baby anything you want, to be delivered anytime between now and its
18th birthday. You decide when, not us. We're just the messengers.
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