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Monica Bielanko
A chronicle since 2005 of my marriage & move to Brooklyn in my twenties; becoming a mother in my thirties; moving to Pennsylvania and learning to amicably coparent after divorce in my forties while living 3 doors down from my ex-husband in a small country town.
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Friday
Jun202008

4 Weeks/9 Weeks



Just looks like I spent the past week wolfing Krispy Kremes, no? Which, really, ain't too far off. So, here's what's going on inside of me this week. We've upgraded from blueberry to grape. Grape Bielanko! Grape is nearly an inch long and is starting to look more human. Essential body parts are accounted for, though they'll go through plenty of fine-tuning in the coming months. The little heart will finish dividing into four chambers, and the valves start to form — as do tiny teeth. The organs, muscles, and nerves are kicking into gear. The external sex organs are there but won't be distinguishable as male or female for another few weeks. Now that the Grape's basic physiology is in place, its poised for rapid weight gain. Which means I'm poised fo rapid weight gain. Oh boy.

Today's my day off. Soon as the Zofran kicks in I'm going to take my boys for a walk. Max senses something is different with me. He refuses to be without me whenever I'm home. If I'm in bed, he's in bed. If Serge gets into bed but I'm still at work, Max waits by the front door. If I sleep on the couch Max sleeps on the couch. He's my best boy. Little Milo isn't so little anymore. I can barely lift him. He's also a love. Pretty much house-trained. Not chewing what he isn't supposed to, for the most part. Sleeping through the night. However. He does like to eat the flowers and plants in my backyard.

My very first doctor appointment is a week from today. Am simultaneously excited and freaked out. I mean, like, what if they tell me the baby has three arms or no arms. Or what if they can't hear a heartbeat? I try to stay away from the crazy ladies of the internets, the ones who flip out on messageboards at the slightest nothing. But really, who can blame them? This is ultimately a terrifying experience. Sometimes, when I think really hard about the fact that I am growing a human being, that there is another human being inside of my body, that another human being is wearing my body like a costume - it freaks me out. I almost get claustrophobic.

Serge; adorable. And I am so mean to him. I can't help it. I know I'm being mean but I'll be damned if he doesn't drive me nuts. It's the little things. Why did you eat all the cheese? Move the coffee table back to it's rightful spot after you scoot it to the couch so you can eat. Stop touching me. Did you just roll your eyes? I am going to stab you. You know, the little things