Your Baby and Citrus Fruit

"Week 11: ...Your baby is about the size of a large lime." - from Your Pregnancy Week by Week.

A large lime is nestled in my uterus.

A uterus. An organ that, until now, I never really gave much thought to.

My lime develops, by all published accounts, at amazing rates and in amazing ways. The lime stage is quite temporary - I've read ahead. In future chapters and various books, it will be a peach, and then, make a triumphant return to the citrus family by evolving into a grapefruit. Nature is truly amazing, no?

Having your child compared to citrus fruit may seem strange. It is.

A large lime. A fruit that, until now, I never really gave much thought to.

It's a bit like when statisticians compare the size of Eastern European countries to that of random midwest states I know even less about than I do Eastern European countries. Hungary, it has been said, is about the size of Illinois. I have no idea how big Illinois is. Nor do the people of Hungary. I have lived in Hungary, though never in Illinois. Hungary, the locals will all tell you often, used to be much bigger. The old maps still prove popular as wall hangings. The fallen empire complex. I don't believe Illinois ever had an empire. It was never the Austro-Illinois Empire, for example. Illinois and Hungary have about as much in common as my baby has with a large lime. These are doctors writing these things. We as a species, are clueless.

If I eat a large lime while in Illinois, will I finally feel the reality of my baby? Or just nostalgic for my time in Hungary? Or will I wonder what in the hell I'm doing in this midwest state, pregnant, my hands sticky with lime juice. Will I burn all my literature on pregnancy? Watch the flames lick the pages, consuming them in an unknowable craving?