40 minus 25 equals only 15 weeks to go

Here's me.
Entering my 25th week of pregnancy.

The Little Chicken Pie, according to the baby website I look at most, is about 9 inches long and weights about a pound and a half. This week she's (yes, it's a girl) working on producing healthy lungs. That's why I quit smoking this week. Just kidding. I don't smoke. I tried a clove once when I went to see Dread Zepplin and Gay Bikers on Acid at some nightclub in Cambridge, England in 1990. The clove, along with the Malibu Rum already in my system didn't complement each other and well ... let's just say I haven't had a craving for either since. I do crave wine, though. I miss wine. I have a nice bottle of something yummy and expensive tucked away in a drawer in my dresser. In October I'm going to drink it.

Anyways, I'm pretty sure I'm in my 25th week. At my doctor's office, they'd say I was 24w2d. In my head that puts me in my 25th week. I get confused on the whole numbering thing. Human gestation is 40 weeks long, but that 40 weeks starts 2 weeks before one actually does any, um . . . Baby Making. Gestation is 9 calendar months, but it's also 10 lunar months. It's all too confusing to me. I'm sure it's confusing to a lot of us. Maybe the confusion is part of the reason not very many babies are actually born on their due dates. In my half-hearted, 15 second search for accurate statistics using a the default search engine on my computer, I found that only about 5% of all recorded births occur on the given due dates. 80% of the babies are born either 2 weeks before or 2 weeks after the given due date. That's a huge window; a whole month of "any day now."

I'm looking forward to meeting the Little Chicken Pie.