Baby Update: 18 Weeks

Have you heard of the way to tell the gender of a plant? Tie a magnet on a string and hold it over a plant. If the magnet swings in circles, it's a female; if it swings back and forth, it's a male. This can be helpful in a plant nursery where a person needs a male kiwi plant to pollinate female kiwi plants, for example.

It can also be a fun way to tell what gender of baby you are having: hold the magnet over a pregnant belly. I had had 100% accuracy until I tried the magnet test on a friend from church, about nine weeks along. The magnet swung in circles, but she had a boy.

So my scientific experiment this pregnancy has been to see if there is a point when the circles that I, as a female, give off are overruled by back and forth of boy baby. (Of course, the experiment necessitates that I have a boy; if I'm having a girl, the magnet would always swing in circles.)

Every few weeks, I've tried this. Girl, girl, girl. At 16.5 weeks: girl. At 17.5 weeks: boy.

This was interesting to me, especially when I read that 18 weeks is the time that gender parts are finalized in some way. Amazing that a baby as tall as a bell pepper and weighing less than a cup of butter has such well-developed male parts.

Am I sure this baby is boy? No, of course not. But the likelihood is pretty high. We've had our girl's name picked out for about twelve years: Genevieve Lucille, for Phil's grandmothers (a little Lucy Lykosh as a girl; a sophisticated Viv as a teen). Meaning: humble light. It's a great name.

But we have been totally uninspired about a boy name. Years ago, Isaiah had written a note that I found recently: It said, "Jadon J Lykosh [which isn't Jadon's middle initial] Isaiah J Lykosh Timothy J Lykosh." At the time, I asked Isaiah who this Timothy was supposed to be, and he just smiled. And Isaiah is named for a prophet. And Timmy is cute, and Timothy is a wonderful name. But I don't LOVE it.

I had my first midwife appointment since week 5 today. (Since this is my fifth baby, I asked that I be allowed to convalesce, as I have little need of education on the stages of labor or proper eating or the changes that may be happening in my body.) The appointment was super fun: my midwife graciously drew blood, saving me a trip to the lab. I heard the baby's heartbeat, a good 140 or so beats a minute. And I weighed myself.

I have been feeling a bit like a puff ball lately, or a Peter Paul Rubens model. And although I remember the watermelon belly of babies past, I don't remember the squishy feeling of all my other parts. No wonder—I've always gone in to labor at the exact same weight, whether at 39 weeks or 41.5 weeks. I am only 7 pounds away from that weight now, meaning that I weigh as much at 18 weeks as I always have in the past at 34 weeks.

I'm surprised how distressing that was for me. I think of myself as pretty low key about pregnancy weight gain usually, but I'm not feeling like that at the moment.

But lovely to have the healthy sound of a heartbeat. The baby becomes more real with every little kick!