It's a terrible picture (are there some tricks to taking good pictures of yourself in a mirror?) but it shows what I noticed yesterday... the belly now sticks out as far as the breasts. Given my current bra size that's impressive. It also seems to have happened very suddenly. I guess this is the "popping" that people talk about. Also, that concave space just below my ribs is gone, which is weird, but I guess expected. This would also account for the sudden sensation that I am hauling my belly around with me everywhere I go.
I feel that I should state that I love being pregnant. I love love love it. My body is doing all these cool, weird things to adjust to the presence of the fetus. Sure, there are symptoms, but given how hard it was getting here every symptom is a small victory. Every time I throw up (less than once a week these days), it's a triumph of modern medicine. The hip soreness may cramp my style on the dance floor, but I could not be happier. New twists on the food aversions are just another excuse to joke with psychohist about how much the baby takes after Margaret.
As the post title suggests, I am 19 weeks pregnant today. I have still not bought anything for the baby. I have still not started clearing the front room. It just seems premature. It's not that I don't want to do these things. I did start browsing baby clothes online this week. I just can't bring myself to actually commit to buying anything, not just yet. A friend lost a pregnancy at 19 weeks. It was a long time ago, but I remember it well. It impressed upon me, long before I had any known fertility issues of my own, that a positive pregnancy test is not the same as a take-home baby. I want to believe that I will take this one home, that the universe will allow me to succeed this time. I have no real reason to think otherwise, this has pretty much been a textbook-perfect pregnancy so far, give or take some mild anemia. I'm just not feeling secure enough to buy that three-pack of onsies, not in pink, not even in green. Maybe in five weeks.