Week 18 - A Case of the Growing Family

I'm currently on the 18th week of a 40-week program, of sorts.  Had this been a marathon training program, I'd be tapering =)

Spoiler: Nope, I'm not running a marathon anytime soon.  And yes, I dropped hints.

Very soon after my darling nephew's arrival earlier this year, I found out that I was pregnant.  I remember after one of our visits to him in the hospital, "The Ukrainian" and I hinted to each other that a baby in our near future felt right.  Since I sometimes feel very much like a child myself and have no close friends in the parent boat, I was wavering on this possibility.  Little did I know, the decision had already been made.

Seeing those two lines was such a brief and small moment, yet one that would change everything.  I think it took several weeks for the true impact to start sinking in, and in many ways, it still is.  I had this kind of moment again when "The Ukrainian" and I heard the baby's heartbeat at my first ultrasound.

Notice any bump-age here (9+ weeks)??
I don't really have recent pictures of myself,
so you'll have to wait until another post
to see the [what I deem to be huge] second
trimester bump.

Today, the baby is just over 17 weeks along, thus, we're on the 18th week by my count.  This puts his or her arrival around the end of November or perhaps early December.  I last saw the little guy or gal doing its thing at 16.5 weeks and so far, everything looks good.  However, my second trimester blood tests are still being processed, and the anatomy scan is actually very soon, so I still worry about all the unknowns (stupid Google!).  Still, as nothing in life is guaranteed, I think it is finally just time to embrace and enjoy this experience.

A (long-ish) side note:
Against what some people might have suspected, I did not skip out on running LA Marathon for pregnancy reasons.  This would have happened either way (as I describe in this post).  However, I HAD signed up for the Big Sur 21-Miler last year, knowing that I could possibly be pregnant by the time the race rolled around and that I'd just wait and see how things panned out.  Long story short (because I know everyone has opinions/critiques when it comes to pregnancy and parenting and such, and I don't really want to hear them), I did my research, cleared my participation with my doctor, and carefully walked/ran following the instructions I was given.  The medal is currently hanging in the future nursery.

Gratuitous picture of the contents of my uterus.
(12.5 weeks, a.k.a., an eternity ago)

Anyway, the concept of being someone's mother is very, very foreign to me, but I have long envisioned a child of my own bringing out the best (and worst, I'm sure) in me.  We have just started telling people recently, which makes it all the more real.  Every time someone says, "Congratulations on your pregnancy!" I start thinking, "I'm going to have a pregnancy?!"  I have the same sentiment when the phrase "when you deliver" comes up at the doctor's office.  This is dumb, but I have always seen pregnancy and that whole she-bang as something that happens to other people.  Time to grow up (and out).

Also, in the many emotional flurries I've been having, I have been thinking about my own upbringing.  "The Ukrainian" and I both came from strict immigrant families, so I definitely think we will be strict parents.  I am definitely jumping ahead here, but I want our child to be confident, self-sufficient, yet humble, and always, always with the feeling that he or she is loved.  That last part is already very true.