So here I am, 17 weeks yesterday, bump starting to appear, we've gone public to all and sundry, and I'm starting to feel these bizarre fizzes and pops that must be movement.
I still don't look pregnant to the untrained eye, but I'm convinced that I'm bigger in the evening than the morning. This morning I stood up straight and looked at my tummy-profile in the mirror, and I could pretty much smoosh it down with my hand to totally flat. And I had no problem fitting my trousers. But last night by dinner time I was going round with my top buttons undone and at bedtime I looked positively enormous in a very pregnant way. I think the baby must be standing upright at the start of the day, and decides to sit down with its feet up (and pointing straight out) in the evening. Much like its mother, then. I wonder has it rigged up a little sofa-and-telly combo in there? (Well I hope you're not watching the Sopranos like we are, Sonny. It's not suitable.)
The movement sensation is weird, and cool. It started a week or so ago, with a sort of fizzy-fuzzy sensation that was almost like being hungry, but not quite. I didn't really think about it till I read that the first movements can feel like your stomach rumbling. But the last evening or two, as well as that, I've felt a sort of thud or pop on the right of my adbomen, low down, which I think must be movement. In bed the night before last thought I could even feel it from the outside, but it was too random to go running back into the sitting room and make anyone else feel it. (Also, I was comfy in bed.) But as soon as I say anything about it, B has his ear to my tummy, as if he'll hear the baby singing to itself as it bobbles around. It's really quite endearing.
Apparently the baby's hearing gets "hooked up" this week and next, so any day now I'll have to decide whether we're growing a classical baby or one who's more into disco hits of the 80s and Sinatra standards. (I suspect it'll be the latter.)
And yes, we finally told the folks at home and everyone else here. Everyone displayed predictable levels of thrilledness or polite congratulations, as appropriate. My dad was the best - Mum put him on the phone for me to tell him myself. The conversation went like this:
Me: So, um, [thinking that somehow "I'm pregnant" is too clinical for my Dad] I'm having a baby. I mean, not right now; in May.
Dad: Oh, ooh, that's wonderful, congratulations, that's really great news. ... So, any other news? Any more hurricanes coming your way?
Clearly, thoughts of pregnancies are far from my father's experience these days, and he just had no idea what to say after the first burst of genuine enthusiasm. I got put back onto Mum at the first decent opportunity.