Knocked Up - Lil' Monkey Baby

I've had two instances during the first trimester where I literally woke up at 3am from a sudden bout of acid reflux. Which, when drinking water did nothing to stop the burning urpy-ness, I eventually dealt with by sticking a finger down my throat and getting rid of the excess acidity that way. Occasionally that easy-to-trigger gag reflex honed during the bun-head ballet years comes in handy...

But now I'm on day two of low level continuous heartburn. Considering I've never had heartburn before in my enitre life, this is getting sort of obnoxious. I mentioned this in passing to Olive while chatting via Skype yesterday and she told me that it meant my baby would be hairy. Pshaw, says I, as I type in yet another wives' tale into Google.

Fuck me if this isn't one of those wives' tales that is actually true.

We already knew that between Mon Amour and myself that our baby ran a pretty good chance of being rather hirsute and short. It's a running joke between all of us. But to find out that my heartburn has a correlation to Peanut growing hair in the womb is sort of odd.

Peanut, darling, Mommy and Daddy are sorry we are bequeathing you our combined Yeti genes and the accompanying addiction to Nair and depilatory waxes and creams. On the bright side, you're gonna have a bitchin' head of hair.

Now will you please let me lie down horizontally without having to ask Daddy to bring home some gelato when he gets off work?

(Killing two birds with one yummy gelato stone: my milk craving and heartburn...)