Week Five

Dear Button,

Its week five and I know about you now. I know that…

You are:
Really there!
* About the size of a sesame seed.
* Now called an embryo.
* Resembling a tadpole far more than your mother or father.
* To quote someone I read “Making developmental leaps and bounds by the hour like a damned GENIUS CHILD”.

I was:
* Entertained by the neighbour getting really impatient for me to take a test.
* Eventually ready to take a test.
* Not really feeling much different at all.

So this week I was concentrating on an office move for the most part. I was anxious to ensure (to the best of my ability) that everything got packed, accounted for and organised. Every now and then, I’d spare a thought for the fact that I might be pregnant but I wasn’t in a rush to find out.  What actually pushed for me to test this week was a couple of things I wanted to do if I was pregnant but there wasn’t much point in doing if I wasn’t. Like buy a maternity top that was on sale. Which sounds kind of bad doesn’t it? Thousands of women can’t wait to get pregnant and nearly bust a gut trying and the reason I found out for sure was that I wanted to go shopping. Sorry.

On the plus side however, thats not why we want you. You’re not just a fashion accessory. Thats good news, right? But if you’re a boy and your father has anything to do with it, you will probably be dressed within an inch of your life on occasion. When I met him, he couldn’t understand why you would spend much money on clothes and didn’t see the point in dressing to impress. Now he hankers after tailor made clothes. So be warned, there could be a suit in your near future. I’m just saying.

Bis dann,



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