Maggot Pony

Pete does not want me to call it a maggot, but that's what the actual size picture looks like to me. Anyway, it's only for a week, and it's not sucking the life out of him, so I don't see what he gets to say about it. It can't hear me, it's still an embryo, and it will be quite some time before it begins to interpret sounds into meaning and meaning into emotion. I think we are OK.

It's week 6, and the book says it's starting to show basic facial features. Basic facial features of what, I am not certain, but if that's what they want to believe, I'll let them. I think that they are referring to the internal formation of the canals that will make up the eyes, ears, mouth, and nose. It's an eight of an inch long, and it has a tail! I think we can leave facial features to the future.

Pete's already thinking about daycare and early childhood education. He's looked into our parental leave here at the University of Minnesota, where we both work, and he's thinking about getting the house ready. It's funny, but it's good. I am basically biological; I am brewing. If he wants to think about actual baby and what to do with it, that's great because I can't. I have to focus on my body, which is still mine, but it has been put into service, making what will hopefully, eventually, be a person. Clearly, I want it because I notice every little twinge and fear something could go wrong. The rational side of my brain tells me that if I miscarry, there is a biological reason, and it's better that way. But as recent presidential elections in American have shown, humans are not first a rational species. We react to emotional input more readily than intellectual input.