Baby Dreams

I've been reading lately in a few books and pregnancy guides that women often start having strange dreams about their unborn child. Usually, these dreams are troubling, such as the baby being deformed, or something. And so the truth seems to hold... Except what the books don't talk about is the father having similar strange dreams, right along side me! On the same night!

Not that strange dreams are any new subject for me, certainly, but I guess I haven't dreamed much about babies in the past. Nor, I don't think, has Joe.

In my dream, I was with my Mom and this dark-haired, dark-eyed baby boy that, try as I might, I had no memory of having. The baby was tiny, about 10 inches in length, but acted about 3 months of age, holding its head up, pulling faces and smiling at everyone. It never cried or made much noise, and despite my mom telling me that I would get used to taking care of him, I was afraid to even pick him up because I hadn't a clue how to go about it. Much less, anything else.

All peculiar enough, but then Joe dreamt that he was the one who delivered this little baby, and that it, too, was tiny, about 10 inches, and absolutely covered in a thick, luxurious mat of black hair.

Usually I'm pretty good at interpreting dreams, but these seem to have me at a loss. I guess, on the bright side, despite being small, the baby was healthy in both dreams! Just hairy...

Peanut Portraits

Friday was our first ultrasound. 8 weeks. It was, unquestionably, the coolest thing I've ever seen. Despite the nerves and nausea, seeing that tiny heart beating was exhilerating. And somehow, the affirmation that, for now, at least, everything's okay makes all the puking and mood swings and tiredness all worth it.

Before it unrolled, it was measuring at 16.4 mm and 8 weeks 2 days.

Fully stretched out, it measured 16.8 mm and 8 weeks and 3 days. That's what I call a stretch! 4mm and one day!