It’s near the end of Week 18, and Baby 2 is the size of a:
bell pepper, sweet potato, croissant, tall Frappuccino with whip, or a multi-tool.
Regardless, Baby 2 is getting bigger by the second and dancing around in there like crazy.
This week’s fun milestone is that The Husband got to feel Baby 2 kick on one particularly rowdy evening.
Aside from that, it’s been pretty smooth sailing… guess they don’t call it the Golden Trimester for nothing (do they call it the Golden Trimester? I don’t know.)
I had a dream last night that I had the baby. It was a really quick, easy and nearly painless delivery (ha!) but I was out of town and gave birth alone in a strange hospital. Also, to my immense shock, the baby in my dream was a girl.
We have our anatomy scan in a couple weeks, but just like last time, we’re not finding out the sex of the baby. I am more tempted this time around, but I’m still happy to have a surprise (and to avoid any potential onslaught of tutus and sequins, or “High Maintenance” or “Strong Like Daddy” bullshit sexist baby clothes).
Despite the idea of a surprise, I’m about 95% sure it’s going to be a boy, judging by The Husband’s family’s track record.
And I mean it when I say that I’m happy either way. I love my son, and I will love my next baby, whoever he or she (or non gender-conforming pronoun) is.
By the end of next week, I’ll be at the halfway point in this pregnancy already. Insane. Guess it’s time to start seriously thinking about rearranging some furniture and making a baby names list.
