Look! I can suck my thumb!

This is day number 99 and I am 14 weeks now! Which means – I entered the second trimester! Yupiiiiiiiii!!!!! I have 181 days or 26 weeks left, and I am 35.0% of the way there.

This week's big developments

Thanks to brain impulses, my facial muscles are getting a workout as my tiny features form one expression after another, thanks to what I can now squint, frown, grimace, a genuine proof that it was the kinetic first and then the verbal as it can be also witnessed by the theatre of the masks, by the masks you (hypocritical) elders put on to meet other masks, at least what some uncle Eliot thinks. And I can pee because my kidneys are producing urine, which I release into the amniotic fluid around me — a process I'll keep up until birth.

My dad can not grasp the idea how I can behave so non-humanly as if I am fish – sleep, food and 'измет' in the same place. My mum is hoping that if me being a boy I will not pick some masterful peeing habits from my father. And YEAHHH! I CAN suck my thumb! A habit I shall not abandon for a looong time. If you look the photo carefully, you can see that the doctor managed to catch me sucking on the ultrasound!

My father is stricken by the idea how with my 8-9 centimeters can suck anything.I hope I will not catch him sucking something out of the nurse.

Other news

I am stretching out. From head to bottom, I measure 3 1/2 inches — about the size of a lemon — and I weigh 1 1/2 ounces. My body's growing faster than my head, which now sits upon a more distinct neck. By the end of this week, my arms will have grown to a length that's in proportion to the rest of my body (my legs still have some lengthening to do).

I'm starting to develop an ultra-fine, downy covering of hair, called lanugo, all over my body. My dad says if I am a boy, the lanuga will make me a man, and if I am a girl it will cause problems to Nera (my mums 'depilaticarka'). My liver starts making bile this week — a sign that it's doing its job right, and I hope I will not grow up to have it spoiled, as my father did, with all varieties of Kavadarian stuff. And my spleen starts helping in the production of red blood cells. Go Reds Go! Though my father says I am not fully aware of the enmity and animosity of that color.

Though my mom can't feel my tiny punches and kicks yet, my little pugilist's hands and feet (which now measure about 1/2 inch long) are more flexible and active.