16 weeks, and then 17 weeks.

Dear bean in my belly,

First you were an avocado, but now you're a turnip. Last week I turned 16 weeks pregnant, and yesterday I turned 17. You are 15 weeks old. Your skeleton is hardening from cartilage to bone and your umbilical cord is getting thick and strong. Your sense of hearing is developing and you can move all your joints. You have toenails and your heart pumps 25 quarts of blood a day.

Little bean, someday I'll tell you all about how my life went completely crazy from late-April to early-May 2009. But for now you'll just have to take my word for it.

I love you, little bean.

Love,
Suzanne

You and me. April 17, 2009.

You and Whiskers. April 17, 2009.

15 weeks.

Dear bean in my belly,

Today I am 15 weeks pregnant. You are 4 inches long and weigh 2 1/2 ounces, about as big as an apple. You are busy moving amniotic fluid through your nose and upper respiratory tract. (Which is kind of gross, little bean, but it helps to develop all your lung-parts, so I guess I'm okay with it. I do want you to have strong lung-parts.) Your legs are growing longer than your arms now, and you can move all of your joints and limbs. Your eyelids are fused shut, but you can still sense light. Dr. Google says if we shine a flashlight at your tummy, for instance, you would be likely to move away from the beam, although Shane and I have not yet tried this science experiment. You are developing taste buds, so I hope all that amniotic fluid is delicious.

I thought by now I would begin to see the light at the end of the tunnel, little bean, but no such luck. I still feel nauseous and exhausted all day every day. I finally succumbed to the urge and visited Dr. Baby to get some drugs for the nausea. I got the drugs, but Dr. Baby didn't seem overly concerned at how miserable I was, but was concerned by the fact that I appeared to be dehydrated. Not enough to warrant IV fluids, but headed in that direction. Dr. Baby said they don't care if I'm eating, but they do care if I'm hydrated. So we are now on Mission: Drink. Gatorade and lemonade and popsicles are the new staples. I will try my damnedest to keep a steady flow of fluid available to you, little bean.

Love,
Suzanne

P.S. The drugs did stop the nausea, little bean, but only because they induced a temporary coma. I think I would have gotten the same result from having Shane hit me over the head...

14 weeks.

Dear bean in my belly,

Today you are 12 weeks old and I am 14 weeks pregnant. You are as big as a lemon. You can now squint, frown, grimace, pee, grasp, and suck your thumb. Your body is now growing faster than your head, so you will be in perfect proportion soon, little bean. Your arms are stretching out, too, but your legs are still a little stubby. You're starting to develop an ultra-fine, downy covering of hair, called lanugo, that will protect you and keep you warm for the remainder of your stay in my womb.

Everyone and everything says that the second trimester (of which this was the first week) would be better than the first, but so far no change, little bean. I seem to be over the worst of the vomiting, but that doesn't mean I still don't feel like doing it or even sort of wish that I would. Since all I feel like doing is laying around and moaning, it's becoming increasingly hard to stay on top of things at work and at home, which is frustrating and discouraging. Little bean, I love you more than I thought I would love something that isn't really real yet, but you sure are hard work! (I bet you'll be worth it, though...)

Love,
Suzanne

13 weeks.

Dear bean in my belly,

Yesterday I turned 13 weeks pregnant; you are 11 weeks old. The website I normally consult tells me you are as big as a medium shrimp, but the thought of comparing you to a creepy crawly ocean creature/seafood seriously skeeves me out, so I'm going with website #2 which says you are the size of a small peach. (Although, I'm guessing they haven't seen the size of the peaches we grow here in the San Joaquin Valley, little bean.) Much nicer, yes?

My favorite development this week: fingerprints! The thought of your teeny-tiny-practically-too-small-to-even-exist fingerprints are almost too much for me to take.

This week has been puke city, little bean. Dr. Baby says I should be feeling some relief soon, but I'm afraid that things are heading in the other direction. Literally. (And I'll spare you the details.)

But it's all worth it, little bean. On Tuesday we saw you and heard your heartbeat again. We could see your head, your spine, your ear, your arms, and your legs. You were kicking and punching and flip-flopping around so much that it was difficult to keep track of all your parts or get a good picture. I can't believe how active you are, little bean! It's so strange to know that you are jumping around in there but I can't feel you yet. Seeing all your moving parts present and accounted for made you more real to us, little bean.

Love,
Suzanne

12 weeks.

Dear bean in my belly,

You are 10 weeks old and I am 12 weeks pregnant. (That's three months, little bean! We made it!) You are the size of a lime. You now have reflexes: you can open and close your fists, kick, curl your toes, suck, and squirm around in response to being poked and prodded. Your brain is furiously building synapses and your face now looks unquestionably human. (More good news for Shane!)

This week has been more of the same, little bean: woozy mornings, late evenings at work, baby bump expansion, lots of cold cereal, and lots of mac 'n cheese. (I've added Gatorade to the list of foods I can eat without wanting to die, so at least we're hydrated, little bean.)

Yesterday I heard your heartbeat. It was a strong and loud 160 bmp, just what it should be. The doctor couldn't find it at first (which induced maybe the shortest panic attack I've ever had) because it was higher than he thought. Which might explain the abnormally early baby bump... you're just riding high, little bean!

We are not keeping you a secret any longer, little bean. This has garnered many congratulations, and also many (useless) (and annoying) suggestions to help with morning sickness. If I'm told one more time to eat Saltines before I get out of bed in the morning, I will punch that person in the nose. And I won't even blame it on the pregnancy hormones.

Love,
Suzanne

11 weeks.

Dear bean in my belly,

Today I turn eleven weeks pregnant and you turn nine weeks old. You are just over an inch and a half long, as big as a fig. Your bones are beginning to harden and tiny tooth buds are forming underneath your gums. Soon you will be able to open and close your fists. Your skin is transparent, and if we could see you, we'd also be able to see all your teeny blood vessels. You are hiccuping and kicking and stretching and performing all kind of other underwater acrobatics, but I can't feel you yet. (What a happy day that will be, little bean!)

This week has been the roughest yet, little bean. I have felt so very nauseated almost every morning. For the past few days I have not been able to make it into work until sometime between 10 and noon, which means I have to stay later into the evening. The only things I've been able to stand eating are cold cereal and mac 'n cheese. I worry that I'm not providing you with proper nutrition, but all the books and Dr. Google say just to make it through the first trimester as best you can, and worry about all that later. So that's what I'm doing.

(Also, the books lie. They say I should be starting to feel better and have more energy right about now, but it's been just the opposite. Things have been declining rapidly...)

I think I have decided that the baby bump is indeed a baby bump. I don't know how or why it got so noticeable so fast and so early, but there it is. I am down to just a few wardrobe choices and it will be to the maternity section of Target with me very soon. I think this also means we'll have to make this pregnancy completely public very soon, because there isn't any hiding it for very much longer.

Shane has been very patient with me and my pregnancy woes. He has been a champion about meeting my every food-whim, rubbing my belly when I feel like throwing-up, and playing with my hair/stroking my arm/massaging my back when I can't get comfortable enough to fall asleep at night. He has also been a good sport about handling the dog/cat food and loading the dirty dishes, two things that make me woozy 100% of the time. I think you'll like Shane, little bean. He takes good care of us.

Love,
Suzanne

P.S. When Dad heard how nauseated I was this week, and that I was cutting lemons in half and licking them as a last resort in relief, he quickly made me this:

I think you'll like your grandpa, too, little bean. We are very lucky ducks, aren't we?

10 weeks.

Dear bean in my belly,

Congratulations, little bean! You have graduated from the embryonic stage to the fetal stage! Next step, gen-u-ine baby! But for now, you are eight weeks old and the size of a kumquat. You have all your teeny tiny parts, and for the rest of the pregnancy they will grow rapidly and mature. Some of your vital organs -- kidneys, intestines, brain, and liver -- have started to function. Your spinal cord is forming and your head accounts for half your body length. (That's because it holds your huge, burgeoning brain, little bean.)

This weekend Shane and I worked at the Viva el Mariachi! Workshops and Festival. If you want to know how to make me the crankiest I've ever been, get me 9 1/2 weeks pregnant and then make me get up at 5:30 am and work for 13 hours. It was a long, exhausting weekend, and I'm glad it's over. (Shane is glad it's over, too. I'm not kidding when I say I was cranky, little bean!) I had Monday off and I slept for 18 HOURS! I had no idea a human being was capable of such a thing! I think even as a sleepy-headed teenager the longest I pulled was 12 hours. My body must be doing very important things if it's using so much energy!

Nausea continues, on and off with no rhyme or reason. My only reliable tactic remains eating whatever sounds whenever it sounds good, and Shane remains a good sport with emergency trips to the grocery store. If the cashiers at SaveMart haven't figured out by now that his wife is pregnant, they are very dumb indeed.

Jury's still out as to whether I'm sporting an actual baby bump. I haven't gained any weight but my belly remains stubbornly pooched. I maintain that it's a migration/rearrangement of fat, but Shane insists that it's you. (I have explained to him 57 times that neither you nor my uterus are anywhere near the protrusion, but he remains unconvinced.) It would make me feel better if I could feel my uterus through my belly like all the books and Jacquie says I should be able to, but let's be honest, little bean, I have no idea what I'm feeling for or exactly where I should be feeling for it. It just feels like I'm massaging and squishing my belly fat all around, which is not a good feeling, so I haven't tried for very hard or very long. I'll just wait till you make my uterus a little bigger and more pronounced. Okay, little bean?

Love,
Suzanne

9 weeks.

Dear bean in my belly,

Yesterday I turned nine weeks pregnant and you turned seven weeks old. You are the size of a grape. All your essential body parts are accounted for, although they will need to ripen up quite a bit yet. (That's what the next 6 months, 3 weeks are for.) You have external sex organs, but we won't be able to see them for another few months. So your whether you are a little girl bean or a little boy bean remains shrouded in mystery. Your little face is starting to take shape: you have eyes underneath eyelids that are fused shut, you have tiny earlobes (my favorite part!), and your mouth, nose, and nostrils are more distinct. But the best news yet: your embryonic tail is completely gone! Shane will be so happy! (He was not a fan of the tail.)

This week was a bit easier than last. A bit -- a few bad days, a few good days, a few bad days instead of seven bad days. This weekend Shane and I will be working at the Viva el Mariachi! Festival, and the preparations already have me exhausted. I don't have as much responsibility as past years, but right now, any responsibility feels like too much responsibility. I am inexpressibly grateful that Shane will be there throughout the weekend to carry me along, figuratively and perhaps literally. It wouldn't happen otherwise, and the workshops would have to organize themselves.

This week my body began to let me know that perhaps something is going on inside of it. My breasts have not yet quadrupled in size, but they are definitely not the breasts of 9 weeks ago. This Sunday I wore a favorite skirt of mine, and I discovered that: a) it was uncomfortably snug and b) I have the first inklings of a baby bump. Not big enough to make anyone thing I'm pregnant, but probably big enough to make everyone think I've gained a few pounds. That's what makes me wonder, though... I haven't gained any weight. Yet. My body is just shifting and morphing and making room for you, little bean. It amazes me that such a small little life could change my body so much already.

Tuesday I had my first appointment with my regular ob/gyn. After our last ultrasound with Nurse Practitioner Missy, she told us that she has done her job and it's time to treat this pregnancy like any other. Since the first appointment with the ob/gyn is to "confirm pregnancy" (for them, I guess... I'm already pretty certain you're there, little bean), they performed another ultrasound. You still don't look human, although you are less blob-like than two weeks ago. You are changing so rapidly, soon I won't even be able to call you my little bean.


Love,
Suzanne

8 weeks.

Dear bean in my belly,

This week you are truly a bean! The size of a kidney bean! You are six weeks old and I am eight weeks pregnant. You have webbed fingers and webbed toes poking out of your hands and feet. You have eyelids, breathing tubes connecting throat to lungs, primitive neural pathways, and your tail is just about gone. (Huzzah!) You are constantly moving and shifting around in my uterus, but I can't feel you yet. You will have to get a bit bigger yet for that.

This has been a rough week, little bean. I have officially joined the legions of pregnant women who suffer from morning sickness. Two is the number of times I threw up in my garbage can at work. Countless is the number of times I have gagged and dry heaved all over the greater Fresno area. The only consistent remedy I have found is to eat whatever sounds good whenever it sounds good. And, yes, this resulted in Shane and I making an emergency run to the grocery store to buy all the ingredients for a ham dinner with all the fixings... mustard sauce, funeral potatoes, green bean casserole... it was random and delicious and kept me from feeling sick for two whole days.

Work has been exceptionally busy this week, little bean, and so I have not been as obsessed with you as usual. I was also called to be the Gospel Doctrine co-teacher in our ward, so I don't suppose I will be able to continue pouring over my pregnancy books and consulting Dr. Google on an hourly basis as I have been. I suppose this will be good for you and me in the long run... obsessive compulsive behavior is generally frowned upon and crazy pregnant women are never taken seriously...

Love,
Suzanne

7 weeks.

Dear bean in my belly,

I am 7 weeks pregnant today. You are a 5 week-old bean. You are the size of a small blueberry. You have arms and legs and soon will have hands and feet. Your brain is growing, your eyes have color, and you have an appendix, a pancreas, and intestines. You have lots of human parts, little bean, but you still look like an alien. Or a manatee.

You doubled in size this week, little bean. And I could tell. To say I have been "tired" would be like saying the ocean is "big." I feel as if I could sleep for three weeks. I fight to keep my eyes open at work, and sometimes I loose that fight. I go to bed before 10:00 pm and have a hard time getting up by 8:00 am. I spent the weekend with your Aunt Lyndsey in Sacramento, and felt terribly that the only thing I could muster the energy to do was recline on her couch and watch movies. (But I also partially blame this on the fact that your Aunt Lyndsey has the most comfortable couch my bum has ever sat upon.)

New this week were the first inklings of morning sickness. If my stomach gets all the way empty, I feel nauseated. But if I eat a full-sized meal, I feel nauseated. So if I can manage to keep a slow, steady stream of food entering my body throughout the day, I pretty much feel normal. Also new this week: ADVENTURES IN HEARTBURN! I have never suffered from heartburn before, and so I had no idea just how annoying it is! Eating makes it worse, of course, but I have to eat to keep from feeling sick. And it mostly hits at night, just as I'm laying down to sleep, of course. I try to sleep on an incline, but that hasn't happened yet. I suppose this is when overwhelming fatigue comes in handy, because thus far I have been so tired that I can fall asleep despite the heartburn.

But by far the most exciting occurrence this week: yesterday Shane and I saw your heartbeat. Tiny and fast. Like a gnat flapping its wings. We also confirmed that you are a "you" and not a "them." (We breathed a collective sigh of relief about this; I was terrified you were three beans, we would have been okay with two, but one was our number of choice.) I no longer think you are a figment of my imagination, little bean, because I have seen you. You are real. And although the following image shows nothing even remotely baby-like, Nurse Practitioner Missy assured us it is indeed a picture of the bean in my belly.


Love,
Suzanne

6 weeks.

Dear bean in my belly,

Today you are a four-week old bean and I am six weeks pregnant. (Does this math confuse you, too?) You are the size of a lentil, and this make me happy because I do love lentils.

Your heart has formed and is pumping blood through your little lentil body at 100-160 beats per minute, twice the speed of mine. You still look like an alien, but your head is starting to grow and your eyes and nose and ears are starting to form. You have little buds where your arms and legs will sprout. Some of your other parts -- brain, lungs, bones, muscles -- are also starting to form. You are a busy little bean!

Last night Shane made the first -- of what I can only assume will be many -- late night craving runs. Around 10:30 pm I felt I could not live another moment without eating a baked potato. Shane cheerfully hopped in the car and procured said baked potato from the Wendy's drive-thru. I think the novelty of this made it kind of fun for both of us, but I don't think the novelty will last long, and I am predicting that within the next month or two, I will hear the words, "Go get your own damn baked potato."

The insatiable hunger and the unrelenting need to urinate continue. New this week is overwhelming fatigue. I could not get myself out of bed this morning until 10:00 am, and since I had to run to the lab for another set of blood work, I didn't get into the office until 11:00 am. (OOoops!) Since I am not really what you would consider a "high-energy" individual, I am starting to worry that adding pregnancy fatigue to my natural constitution will result in something like hibernation for the next eight months. The good news seems to be, when I am able to remove myself from the bed and start the day, I can usually build up enough momentum to last me into the evening. Until around 11:00 pm, when I curl up in bed with a baked potato and promptly slip into a coma.

Love,
Suzanne

Knock knock, are you there, little bean?

Dear bean in my belly,

Today I was feeling very unpregnant; I started to wonder if Shane and I hallucinated the extra pink line on our pregnancy test. (It was very faint...) But then I ate half a bag of potato chips for a mid-afternoon snack, which confirmed, yes, something is happening in my body.

Apparently you are desperately in need of potato chips, kalamata olives, grape tomatoes, strawberry shortcake, and string cheese, because nothing has ever tasted so delicious. (Not eaten all at once, mind you... although I haven't ruled it out as a viable option...) It's like I'm tasting for the first time. Just wait until those potato chips make their way to you, little bean! They are GLORIOUS!

I spent this weekend in bed, trying to recover from a sore throat and a fever that hit at the end of last week. Usually, when the thought even crosses my mind that I might be getting sick, I run for the medicine cabinet and start shoving whatever I can find down my throat. This was a different experience, just riding it out. I didn't want to take a even Tylenol, even though Shane broke the Sabbath to buy me some and Dr. Google seems to think it's okay. But I couldn't bring myself to take it. You are still so small and vulnerable, little bean!

And it is very strange to feel protective of something that 75% of the time you are certain is a figment of your imagination.

I have another blood test on Wednesday and an ultrasound in 8 days, and then maybe you will be cemented into reality, little bean.

Love,
Suzanne

5 weeks.

Dear bean in my belly,

Yesterday I turned five weeks pregnant. That makes you a three-week old bean. Dr. Google tells me you are the size of a sesame seed, you look more tadpole than human, you have a neural tube now, and your teeny tiny heart has formed and will start to pump this week.

Shane and I have known for one week that we are pregnant. We waited so long and have gone through much to get you snuggled deep into my belly, little bean. We tried to get pregnant for a year and a half before we sought the opinion of a reproductive endocrinologist and his staff. After a battery of tests, Nurse Practitioner Missy told us that we should consider using intrauterine insemination to overcome some of the problems that were keeping you from us.

After taking clomiphene to stimulate ovulation (which produced three follicles, so we still don't know if you are "bean" or "beans") and having an intramuscular hCG shot (administered lovingly and painfully by Shane) to trigger ovulation, an insemination was performed on January 14, 2009. A home pregnancy test on January 28 came out positive, and a blood test the next day confirmed pregnancy. Another blood test one week later, February 4, told us everything was right on track. I have a third blood test next week, and our first ultrasound is scheduled for February 17. (During which, I hope you and your beating heart make a vivid appearance, little bean.)

I have not (yet) been overwhelmed by pregnancy symptoms. During weeks 3 and 4, I experienced some cramping and a few shooting pains in the abdomen, which worried me considerably, but the medical professionals say it is normal and is indicative of the uterus growing and the surrounding ligaments stretching. (It is difficult to believe that anything is growing and stretching already!) For the past few days I have been exceedingly tired, but I'm kind of a tired person, so I haven't decided whether this is a pregnancy symptom or just the status quo.

Two changes I have noticed: the need to eat and the need to pee. I have never experienced such hunger. I feel as if I eat constantly, all day long, and still go to bed famished. The hunger even woke me in the middle of the night once. Another thing waking me in the middle of the night: trips to the bathroom. It's hard to believe that you are putting any pressure on my bladder yet, and indeed, Dr. Google says the frequent need to urinate this early in pregnancy is due to increased blood volume and therefore increased kidney activity. What a demanding little bean you already are!

I still have to convince myself daily that you are real, little bean. I can not feel you and I have not seen you, and sometimes this all feels like a very carefully orchestrated practical joke. It is so strange to want something so badly for so long and then receive it. I'm sure the joy and excitement will follow shortly, but forgive me little bean, because for now there is a lot of overwhelm and trepidation.

Love,
Suzanne