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