trouser buttons, other babies, jumbo shrimp and names

I'm officially 14 weeks pregnant today, and have officially entered the 2nd trimester with 1 pair of maternity jeans (already in use), 1 pair of black maternity slacks (too roomy yet), 1 maternity skirt, and 2 shirts. Mostly I'm wearing my old clothes, but I have to leave the top button (or two) of most of my jeans undone. I've resorted to wearing shawls and scarves around my waist! I'm definitely sticking out. I hope to post pictures soon!

Matthew and I have finally started talking about names. But I'm being very cruel, because I'm not going to tell you our ideas. Best kept secret until the little one can confirm by his or her presence whether it's the right name.

Our good friends Deacon Greg and Taesia just had their fourth and they were still not agreed on a boys name. They had a few different ideas, but the most prominent was John. Then their little boy was born. And Taesia still wasn't sure about John. And she looked at him and said: "Greg, look! He's an Alexander!!" (a name that wasn't on their list at all) and Greg looked and saw, that yes, indeed, this baby was an Alexander. So Alexander John Jacob Pines Scratch he is.

And we'll have to be prepared for our baby to tell us in the same way the name that is right. But we still have ideas.

All these little things...making lists of names, buying maternity clothes...all outward tangible signs of a mysterious reality that is somehow taking place inside my middle. It's so difficult to fathom, I jump at every little reminder to confirm its truth--whether it's a little more roundness to my belly, having a doctor's appointment, or even the bout of morning-sickness I had this morning.

Every newborn baby I see, at church, on the announcements from friends back in BC, stirs in me a new tenderness. It's not that I want to hold the baby--although I've always liked holding babies and sought the opportunity, but there's something different now. I'm less interested in the other babies, and at the same time more filled with wonder at them. And I do want to hold them--be near them to see the reality, to be reminded of what I will be holding in my arms in March that will not be someone else's baby, but my own. Both a wonderful and a terrifying thought.

In case anyone is interested in the trivia: my baby should be roughly the size of a lemon now. I didn't bother to tell you at 13 weeks, because the website I was consulting for average fruit sizes departed from the fruit theme for some strange reason and likened the growing foetus at 13 weeks to a JUMBO SHRIMP! I wasn't nearly as impressed by that mental pictures as I was previously by raspberry, kumquat, or fig. And I certainly wasn't going to post a picture!

The little Kumquat is now 3 1/2 inches long from head to bottom, and is supposedly moving around and able to make facial expressions. Everything is developed, and now mostly just needs to grow in size... For perspective, the hands and feet are supposed to be about 1/2 inch long each. Can you imagine?