No Short Bus

Okay, I'll be the first to admit the title is crude. But it's official. We got the results of the integrated tests and the baby was negative for Downs and mental retardation. Yes, I know you don't have to be retarded to ride the short bus. But let's hope there won't be a reason. There was also another test where they measure Katrina's cervix to make sure it's not stretching. It causes early labor. The alternative is, no joke, a stapler. That too, was a positive test. So for now we're chipping away at these prenatal worries and cruising into the bliss of the 2nd Trimester. The best Mester of all.

Katrina is finally eating a little more because her nausea is all but gone. The only problem now is that her stomach is starting to get squished by her other organs so usually after half her plate is half empty, she's all full. Then she gets hungry about an hour or so later. This must be what it's like for stomach staple people. I think this is also why the father is known to gain weight along with his pregnant wife. He's eating what she doesn't finish!

Meanwhile, she's desperately trying to get me to feel the baby move or kick. I still can't feel anything. She stands at the ready for the slightest movement and then yells "the baby's kickin'" and puts my hand on her stomach. Although last night I think the onions she had were giving her gas because she put my hand on her liver. "Honey, I don't think the baby is up this high," I said. Or maybe the baby's kick sent her organs flying into a domino effect that ended with her liver. But soon I will feel it, perhaps see it. In my nearly 30 years of existence I have yet to feel a pregnant woman's belly when a baby was kicking. Like Maraschino Cherries, I got to the point where I realized I had yet to experience it and thought, why start now? When I got to my 20s, I decided that I would rather wait to feel my own child kicking. I figured it would be a nice way to usher in fatherhood and have this first contact be a completely foreign sensation. But I'm sticking to my guns with those fake cherries. All bloody chemicals anyway.