I'm 18 weeks today, entering my 5th month of pregnancy, which sounds all official and stuff. My belly has really popped these last couple of weeks, startling me and making me do double-takes when I glimpse my reflection in a mirror. Green Bean is the size of a chicken breast, which is teensy (and a little bit creepy) but sounds huge when you consider that a mere three months ago s/he resembled a sea monkey. S/he can also hear our voices now, apparently, so Tim has started talking to my belly, confusing and possibly frightening the poor babe with tales of life on the outside. I still haven't felt any movement, unless I'm mistaking it for cramps and gas, which I have in ample supply. I hope Green Bean isn't becoming a couch potato in there.Calisthenics, Green Bean!

The day after I wrote my last (well, second to last) blog post and said I was feeling better, I had a few days of some of the worst nausea ever. It seems that happens every time I think I'm improving, so I'm not jinxing myself anymore. I'm just going to plan to be a ball of puke until the birth and if by some miracle the gods of nausea smile upon before then, it'll be a pleasant, unexpected surprise. And that's the last thing I'm going to say about my tummy trouble. Until the next time I complain about it.

It seems the biggest news in our life right now (besides the fact that we discovered a restaurant with amazing vegetarian black bean jalapeno burgers, which a pregnant woman should really never eat, but YUM) is that we're seriously thinking about selling Tim's car and being a one-car family. As is, my car is only driven one hour a week when I go to the grocery store. Tim walks to work every day now, so he rarely uses his car either. We're not hurting for money, by any means, but it seems a waste to be spending thousands of dollars a year to insure and maintain a car we don't need--and in fact have been using so rarely that Tim has to go out and start it every once in a while to keep it running. Anyone have experience sharing a family car? We're really leaning toward it, but's a big decision and we want to make sure we consider the outcome carefully before we take the plunge.

I'm having trouble thinking of anything to write about this week besides the fact that at this time next week we will know if Green Bean has a bean or just has bean envy. For a hippie from a college where gender was irrelevant as showering and the mainstream media (oh, Evergreen, I miss you), I sure seem to be fixating on this boy/girl thing, eh? It's not that I'm chomping at the bit to adorn my kid with either a football jersey or a pink tutu (okay maybe a little bit the tutu) and therefore firmly enslave them within the bonds of oppressive societal gender expectations for life (again, Evergreen, I miss you), I swear. It's mostly the pronoun thing. I am so sick of saying "he or she," "him or her," "the guy or the doll" (I've never said that one but I really should start). And yeah, I get a little thrill at the thought of saying "my son" or "my daughter." It's just a gap to be closed, something that will make us feel closer and more familiar with this sweet stranger wreaking havoc on my uterus.

One week. Wow. And hopefully we'll get a good picture at the ultrasound so I can share it here and brag about how my fetus is the fetusiest fetus that ever feted.

Dear Green Bean

• I hope you are healthy. Always.
  
• I hope that you know how special and wonderful you are, but also realize that you are not the center of the universe. I hope your passion to serve others is greater than your desire to serve yourself.
• I hope you believe in something so strongly you'd die to defend it. I hope you never have to.
• I hope you respect and employ rationality and logic more than delusion and blind faith.
• I hope you love animals.
• I hope you find joy in some kind of physical activity.
• I would hope that you never have to go through an "I'm ugly and unworthy" phase, but I know all of us do. So I hope yours is brief, that it makes you stronger, and that it helps you see through the lies society will feed you about what beauty and worth is.
• I hope you develop a lifelong love of learning.
• I hope if someone ever messes with you, you stand up to them. And I hope Daddy never finds out who that person is because I don't want him to go to jail for breaking someone's kneecaps.
• I hope math and science are not the struggle for you that they were for me.
• I hope I never have to embarrass you by calling your teacher and asking her how DARE she give my brilliant baby a C, but I probably will. Sorry.
• I hope you have far, far more joy in your life than fear.
• I hope someday you love someone the way I love Daddy.
• I hope you feel like you can talk to us about anything.
• I hope you are never one of those people who obliviously block off the entire aisle at the grocery store with their cart. I know you won't be.
• I hope someday you find a job that you feel good about. I hope you never stay too long at one that makes you feel like your soul has been sucked out.
• Most of all, I hope it doesn't matter much what I, or anyone else, hope for you. I hope you do whatever that pure, honest place in the center of your being drives you to do. It will delight me to watch you follow whatever paths fulfills you.
  

Don't go into Mr. McGregor's garden

My mom found this painting online when I told her I love Beatrice Potter art. If Green Bean is indeed a girl, it will be hung in her room. I just love it. We're planning a simple, old-fashioned kind of nursery.

Speaking of stuff, I've been looking at baby items online and holy crap, there is a LOT of STUFF. And according to Babies R Us's "guide" for first-time parents, we must have it all or our baby might as well be sleeping in dirt and playing with twigs. As you've probably noticed, Tim and I are minimalistic people, which is why we have a cell phone that cost $10 and a TV we bought at Goodwill. We want Green Bean to have everything s/he needs, as well as some stuff s/he doesn't, but is a stroller more pimped out than a Bentley or a nursery that looks like Celine Dion's mansion exploded all over it really necessary? Some of this stuff just seems excessive. (I'm looking at you, The Babykeeper.)

It is fun looking at baby things, though, and imagining Green Bean in them. Sometimes this whole thing seems really surreal--like the baby is just an idea rather than a living being inside of me who's going to actually emerge in 5 1/2 months.

I'm feeling pretty good today. Didn't even have to take my anti-nausea medicine this morning! I'm always cautious when I have a few good hours--it never seems to last--but almost 17 weeks would be a great time for a dramatic dip in queasiness.

Tim and I have fallen into the habit of calling the baby a "she," which we swore we would not do. There's still a 40% chance that Green Bean was just being shy about showing his bean that day, and we don't want to fall in love with the idea of a girl only to be disappointed if the next ultrasound reveals the opposite. I don't think we will be, though--it's hard to imagine being disappointed with Green Bean, the future first female president and/or star shortshop for the Mets (oh you didn't know? Yes it's true.) In any case, we'll find out in two weeks!

Nausea and headaches and zits, oh my!

As of today, I'm 16 weeks pregnant, and as you can see, I'm starting to show it. I ordered my first maternity dress online last week and was thrilled to see that it's basically a socially acceptable nightgown. I could get used to that.

I could not, however, get used to this constant nausea. It's definitely better than it was at week 6, but I still feel like crap pretty much all the time and vomit if I don't take my nausea medicine. I basically feel like I have a mild case of the flu 24/7. I'm really hoping it eases up soon--I'm greatly looking forward to feeling and acting like a functional member of society again, even to a small degree. But if it doesn't, and my face stays this lovely shade of green for the entire 9 months, it'll still be entirely worth it. Remind me of that when I wake up gagging tomorrow.

The baby book says I'm supposed to start feeling Green Bean's movement any minute now. I have no idea what it'll feel like. Butterflies? Gas? That scene from Alien? In any case, I'm looking forward to it, though I should probably be trembling in fear, given the way Green Bean was punching and kicking like Muhammad Ali at the last ultrasound.

I have finally started reading up on first-year baby stuff. I was so gung-ho about absorbing as much information as I could about trying-to-conceive and pregnancy stuff, but I've been intimidated when it comes to actually learning about what to do with this child after the ordeal that is birth. I mean, on the message boards on the baby sites there are hundreds of messages dedicated to your baby's stool color. It's intimidating. But I couldn't avoid it forever, so now I am starting to getting my learn on so as not to be bringing my baby home in a grocery sack.

Doctor Awesome (I call him that cuz he is) recently ordered tests for Down's syndrome and other abnormalities and they came back negative as can be. Green Bean is totally healthy and apparently my womb is pretty fabulous, which is a weird thing to be complimented on but I'll take it. At our next visit, in a mere three weeks, we'll find out the sex, which is some kind of exquisite torture. I cannot wait! I have no idea how my mom held out for 9 months with me. The curiosity has been killing me since day one.

I'll try to update this blog as often as possible, but honestly, I have a pretty packed schedule. I mean, I have to watch my programs, complain at least ten times a day, cry every time I hear a song that reminds me of Green Bean, eat weird things, and lay around in unbuttoned pants drinking ginger ale. It's a fast-paced life.