Fruit Salad

Each week, I check various websites and books to read about what's going on inside my body, how big the baby is and what he or she has grown recently. This week, my baby is the size of a grape, has some teeth and a face, and his or her heart is divided into four chambers. Last week, the baby was the size of a kidney bean (or on some sites a raspberry). Before that a blueberry. Next up? Kumquat.

I believe they use fruit comparisons for several reasons. First to give moms and dads something readily identifiable. We have grapes in our fridge. We just have to open the door and look at one and know that's how big our offspring is right now.

But I think the second message is more of a subliminal reminder that moms need to eat lots of fruit. Because otherwise we won't poop for nine months.

I feel quite lucky to have had a nausea free experience so far. Apart from that one day where I exploded in the yard, I have felt awesome. Cranky, a little weepy sometimes, but generally awesome. Except I can't poop.

I force myself to eat prunes and apricots each morning, drink hot tea, only buy fibrous cereals and sprouted wheat bread. I put leafy greens in everything and work out regularly. That little grape has me backed up beyond belief. I learned that this is due to increased levels of progesterone in my body and not yet because the uterus is in the way of the exit (That happens when we're dealing with more of a peach sized baby).

Perhaps the only silver lining in this fruit bowl is that I am now without question the best gas passer in my household. Corey can't hold a candle to what I've got going on. If he did, he'd wind up blown out into the street with his beard gone missing.