My Pregnancy, 19 Weeks

This article is from a fetal development website.  My increasingly exasperated comments are in red.


Your pregnancy: 19 weeks
How your baby's growing:
Your baby's sensory development is exploding!  (exploding?  Really?  That's the verb they're going with here?  Exploding?  As if gestating another human being isn't alarming enough, now we have to worry about uterine explosions?)  Her brain is designating specialized areas for smell, taste, hearing, vision, and touch. Some research suggests that she may be able to hear your voice now, so don't be shy about reading aloud, talking to her, or singing a happy tune if the mood strikes you. (If she's like the rest of my children, she's less engaged in developing her hearing, and more anxious to learn how to tune out the sound of my voice.)
Your baby weighs about 8 1/2 ounces and measures 6 inches, head to bottom — about the size of a large heirloom tomato. (I've mentioned it before, how creepy I find it that these sorts of websites liken my developing baby to food items.  Kumquat, clementine, turnip.  And now "large heirloom tomato".  I find it difficult to believe that people have an easier time contextualizing their unborn child with that description rather than "half a foot".)

Oh sweet baby Jesus!  That child is eating my fetus!  Or a large heirloom tomato.  I'm not sure.

Her arms and legs are in the right proportions to each other and the rest of her body now. (Well thank God for that.  But I'm more concerned about her cranial size.  Because let's be honest- those suckers look like aliens for the first few months.)

Woosh.  You know, now that you mention it, I'm glad you mentioned the arms.  This little guy looks like a Tyrannosaurus Rex.

 Her kidneys continue to make urine and the hair on her scalp is sprouting. A waxy protective coating called the vernix caseosa is forming on her skin to prevent it from pickling in the amniotic fluid.


How your life's changing:
Think you're big now? (Oh, are you going to start in on how big my ass is getting, too?  Well, you'll have to get to the back of the line, Mr. Website, 'cause there's a dozen people in front of you yakking about the junk in my trunk.) You'll start growing even faster in the weeks to come. (And this would be why I assume it's a man who wrote this.  "Think you're big now?  Hahaha!  It's only going to get worse, Tubby.")  As a result, you may notice some achiness in your lower abdomen or even an occasional brief, stabbing pain on one or both sides — especially when you shift position or at the end of an active day. (Go ahead and say it.  "You're unlikely to feel any pains in your ass, though, since it's so amply padded.") Most likely, this is round ligament pain. The ligaments that support your uterus are stretching to accommodate its increasing weight. This is nothing to be alarmed about, but call your practitioner if the pain continues even when you're resting or becomes severe. (Again, written by someone who has never experienced a damn thing he's writing about.  "Round ligament pain, tra-la, tra-la.  It's nothing.  Suck it up, Lard Ass."  Anyone who's ever had round ligament pain knows that it's exactly like having a white-hot iron knitting needle plunged directly into one labia, and then ripped all the way down one or both legs.  Which is why you'll never see me writing text for a website about survivors of white-hot iron knitting needle accidents that says "This is nothing to be alarmed about, tra-la, tra-la.)

This?  Oh this is just one hundred knitting needles, about to be heated up and plunged into your body.  No biggie.

You may be noticing some skin changes, too. Are the palms of your hands red? (What?  What if I'm not a white woman?  What if I'm color blind?)  Nothing to worry about (then why did you bring it up, you jerk? Now I'm going to be staring at my dang palms for the next five months!) — it's from the extra estrogen. You may also have patches of darkened skin caused by a temporary increase in pigment. When these darker patches appear on your upper lip, cheeks, and forehead, they're called chloasma, or the "mask of pregnancy." (I'll show you a mask of pregnancy.  Hang on.)

There.  That's exactly what you just described.  Dark patches on the upper lip, cheeks, and forehead.  Now, in addition to telling me how fat I'm going to get, you've also likened me to a zombie.  Don't expect a Christmas card from me.)

You may also notice some darkening of your nipples, freckles, scars, underarms, inner thighs, and vulva. (No.  I'm not running an image search for any of that, thank you very much.) That darkened line running from your belly button to your pubic bone is called the linea nigra, or "dark line." (I prefer my dear friend Debi's term for it, "The ripe stripe".)
These darkened spots will probably fade shortly after delivery. In the meantime, protect yourself from the sun, which intensifies the pigment changes. Cover up, wear a brimmed hat, and use sunscreen when you're outdoors. (Translation:  Cover up!  Think of the children!  Dear God, their sweet little eyes will burn in their sockets if they happen to see your hideousness!) And if you're self-conscious about your "mask," a little concealing makeup can work wonders.  (Yeah.  I wasn't self-conscious about my "mask" until we had this little talk....You know what else would work wonders?  A baseball bat to my monitor.)


Decision Guide: Naming your baby
For many couples, settling on a name for their baby is a lot of fun. For others, it's a tortuous process (kind of like reading this article) of negotiation.  Either way, it's an important decision because you're choosing something that will last a lifetime (unless your little one decides to rename herself along the way) (That's why I'm setting aside $139 for each kid and just naming them whatever the hell I feel like.  If they don't like it, I'll hand them the money, direct them to this website, and tell them to go buck wild.). Here are some factors to consider when you're deciding on a name:
Sound and compatibility How your baby's name sounds when it's said aloud is one of the most essential things to think about. Is it melodious? Harsh? Does it go well with your last name? One thing to avoid: Choosing a first name that ends in the same sound as the beginning of your last name. (This is the stupidest, most random thing this article has said.  Why?  Why is this the ONE THING TO AVOID?  Hmmm?  Yeah, that's what I thought.  You got nothing, Mr. Stupid Fetal Development Writer Man.  Whose name is probably  Tom Miller.  Or Steve Veracruz.  Or David Donaldson.  WAIT A MINUTE, THAT'S MY FATHER-IN-LAW'S NAME!  You got something against my father-in-law's name?)

This is what came up when I ran an image search for "Tom Miller".  Are you going to look at the soulful, sincere eyes of Grandpa Miller and tell him that his parents screwed up naming him?

Uniqueness An unusual name has the advantage of making your child stand out from the crowd. On the other hand, a name no one has heard of and few can pronounce can bring attention your child might rather avoid. (When we're shopping in an area with a large Hispanic population, no one ever is confused by Joaquin's name.  However, they are puzzled by the fact that both of Joaquin's parents are clearly gringos.) Spelling variations can help make a name unique, but choosing a name with numerous spellings can cause confusion in your child's life for years to come. (Just ask a poor little girl with a uniquely spelled, common name, growing up in the 80s before CafePress allowed everyone to be their own print shop.  There wasn't anything with "Cari" on it.  The sweetest thing my grandma ever did for me was buy me soaps with the name "Carl" on it, and scratch off part of the "l".  True story.)
Relatives and friends Many parents choose to name their babies after a grandparent, another relative, or a close friend. Don't want too many Michaels in your house? Look way back in your family tree for hidden treasures. (Great-great-great uncle Huldan or great-great-great-great-grandma Shubael would certainly be tickled to know their names are kept alive.) 

On the other hand, this is what I got when I ran a search for "Shubael".  Clearly, you name a child Shubael, you run the risk of having grandchildren dressed in stupid outfits like this one.  Fair warning.

And if you're worried about hurt feelings, consider a first name from one side of the family and a middle name from the other. According to a BabyCenter survey, middle names are a must for most parents; 98 percent give their child a middle name, with 7 percent of those parents giving their child two or more middle names.
Ancestry and heritage Your child's heritage is an essential part of who she is, and you may want her name to reflect that. Skim history books focusing on your family's country of origin to find appropriate possibilities. ("Cracker Ass Cracker Whitey McWhiterton Donaldson has a nice ring to it, don't you think?)
Meaning No one is likely to treat your daughter Ingrid differently because her name means "hero's daughter," (anyone named Ingrid is probably 6 feet tall and can kick your ass with one hand.  So you'd better treat her differently because her name means "hero's daughter".) but the derivation of your baby's name is something you may want to think about. Use BabyCenter's Baby Name tool to learn the meaning of over 5,000 names.
Initials and nicknames People, especially kids, can be cruel when it comes to nicknames, so try to anticipate any potentially embarrassing ones. Consider your child's initials as well, so you don't inadvertently saddle her with a doozy like Z.I.T. or P.E.E. (Oh please.  If we did this, I'd never have gotten to use "Vincent" as a middle name, since my husband insisted that "V.D." was unacceptable.  This, despite the fact that no one but he and 70 year old ex-sailors even use that term anymore.)

Pictured here:  Huldan Nagle, sailor, 70 years old.  Frequent user of the phrase "V.D."

Many people going through pregnancy like to refer to their growing baby by name — or nickname. What about you? (I like referring to my growing baby by the following terms:  Fruit of my Womb- in caps like that-, Heritage of the Lord, and Arrows in the Hand of the Warrior.  It's Biblical or nothing, buster.)
One of the best tests for a baby name is to yell it out loud, preferably at a playground. If you feel uncomfortable saying the name in that setting, it might not be the best choice. (I would feel uncomfortable yelling the name of my pre-born child in a public setting, no matter what the name was.  Seriously, did this person just suggest that a pregnant lady waddle her fat assed, zombie faced self down to a public playground and start yelling random names?  Because that's what I think I just read.  You know what?  I'm feeling cranky enough that I might just do that exact thing.  So if you see a fat, waddling, scary-faced woman at your playground, yelling "Augustine Michael?  Veronica Rosemary?" then leaving without any children in tow, it's probably me.  Come say hi.  Or cover your children's eyes.  Your call.)