A Horse Walks Into a Bar...

My husband is sleeping next to me while I'm up too late, typing my first blog entry. My intention was to start a blog to record my first pregnancy experience, and I am already 23 weeks behind. Well, technically, 18 weeks behind, as we were 5 weeks along when we found out we were expecting. This brings me to the first wonderment of pregnancy. What is with those 5 weeks? Anyone who can master elementary school-level math can figure out that once you've missed your Monthly Friend, if you are 5 weeks along by then, there are a couple of weeks in your pregnancy when you're not really pregnant. I know that I, like many, suffer from all-too-common "pregnancy brain," but this concept has stumped preggos and non-preggos alike.



But back to my snoring hubby. When we first discovered our little bun in the oven, he knelt to the ground and hugged me, his face to my belly. Ever since these early days, Michael has been tenderly talking to our baby, aiming his voice towards my navel as if it were a little baby microphone. ("Horton Hears a Who" comes to mind). In our 11th week, excited and nervous, we visited our OB hoping to hear our baby's heart beat. I must admit being a little confused when I was told that lifting my shirt above my Whoville navel was not adequate for this exercise, as my OB asked me to unbotton my jeans just a bit. We leared that our little tadpole would not be a swimmer for a few weeks yet, and as we heard that washing-machine heart beat with the heart rate microphone pressed somewhere, well, below my bladder, I turned to Michael and said, "honey, we've been talking to the wrong body part."



I love the sweet moments when Michael talks to our baby. One of his first pre-natal conversations with our little one went like this: "Hi, Baby, I love you. So, a horse walks into a bar, and the bartender says, 'why the long face?'"! Michael paused thoughtfully then said, "you'll think that's funnier when you know what a horse is. And a bar. And....words."



Good night, sweet Daddy.