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Pregnancy Calendar

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cute illustration of not-yet-showing pregnant woman looking at booties for baby

Week 10

Your Baby

  • Will officially be considered a fetus by the end of this week.
  • Is over an inch long, maybe by as much as 3/4 of ANOTHER WHOLE INCH. That’s almost TWO INCHES.
  • That’s about the size of a…hmm…*glances frantically around room*…okay, it’s slightly bigger than a really big coat button, but not quite as long as a AA battery. There.
  • Has a heartbeat strong enough to be heard via a Doppler.
  • Most congenital conditions appear before the end of week 10, meaning the most delicate and critical development period is over. You can breathe a sigh of relief over that, but…uh, I wouldn’t go celebrate the milestone with a bathtub of gin, or anything.


  • Might be starting to feel just the teensiest bit better, symptom-wise. Morning sickness “typically” peaks around week nine, but you have my permission to tell me to shove that “typical” business up my ass.
  • Just like I just flipped the double bird at my copy of Your Pregnancy Week by Week for telling me that I don’t need maternity clothes yet. Look, my bump may be 75% methane gas at this point, but that doesn’t mean my gasbaby should be made to suffer constricting waistbands.
  • New bras might be a good idea, as I recently discovered after seeing a photo of myself taken by someone else and oh look! Armpit boobs!

Congratulations! You’ve made it to the double-digits. The final weeks of the first trimester will slowly tick by but then ta-da! Second Trimester.

Is anyone here a little…emotional? About…anything? And everything? While I have always been prone to a little teary-up-ness during movies and soft-focus commercials, I become a blubbery emo HOT MESS when I’m pregnant.

Last time, before I even knew I was pregnant, I sat on the couch and sobbed sobbed sobbed during 13 Going On 30, completely helpless to do anything about it even after Jason walked in to find me raccoon-eyed and shaking, blabbering on and on about something about a dollhouse before he finally turned around and silently left the room.

This time I had similarly proud moments during The Ghost Whisper (TELL MY DAUGHTER I’M SO PROUD OF HER!), HBO’s John Adams (SMALLPOX!), Miss Pettigrew Lives For a Day (WE’RE SEEING A MOVIE IN THE THEATER AND I’M JUST SO HAPPY ABOUT IT!), and about a zillion times during the day when I am alone and able to indulge my shameful habit of seeking out sad news stories about babies on the Internet so I may shed hot tears and weep and then chase Noah around demanding hugs to make Mama happy again.

I am a sick, sick person.

Oh Yeah, THIS: My belly is big and round and high up and all in front. I know it’s mostly bloat and baby-related accessories at this point (see: inch-and-a-half, crown-to-rump), but the exact same thing happened to me last time. My belly popped out around week eight or nine and never popped back in — it basically just hung out there until the baby was actually big enough to take up the space.

On the one hand, yay! Belly! I love round pregnant bellies and I loved the way I looked when I was pregnant (up until the ridiculous hugeness at the end, of course). And I’ll take a prematurely popped-out belly to all-around bloat-y largeness any day.

On the other hand:
“Aw, congratulations! How far along are you?”
“Uh. About 10 weeks or so.”
*well-wisher eyes belly, raises eyebrows in horror, backs away slowly*

New This Time Around: I ate some weird-ass stuff last time, all in the name of Just Trying To Keep Food Down. I found a few things that just always tasted good and didn’t trigger my nose or my nausea (nuggets, fries, saag paneer, pudding), but I wouldn’t say I really CRAVED anything. At least not movie-style cravings where the woman is kicking her husband and demanding that he go buy her a ridiculous combination of foods. My bizarre eating habits were more about self-preservation than a desperate NEED for that particular food.

I have cravings this time. CRAVE. INGS. Right now I want a can of black olives and a tuna fish sandwich on the Archer’s Farms whole grain white bread that you can get at Target. Nothing else will do, mercury and sodium content be damned. Sunday night I demanded Texas-style chili and chicken wings. I wanted them so badly my skin itched. Last night I wanted NOTHING ELSE IN THE WORLD but a vegetarian burrito from Chipotle with hot salsa and sour cream.
I would like to note that NONE of these cravings have been obliged by my husband. NONE.

(Perhaps I should try crying about it?)

Related post: Pregnancy and COVID-19: What We Know (& a Few Things We Don’t)

Amazon Baby Registry 1

About the Author

Amy Corbett Storch


Amalah is a pseudonym of Amy Corbett Storch. She is the author of the Advice Smackdown and Bounce Back. You can follow Amy’s daily mothering ...

Amalah is a pseudonym of Amy Corbett Storch. She is the author of the Advice Smackdown and Bounce Back. You can follow Amy’s daily mothering adventures at Amalah. Also, it’s pronounced AIM-ah-lah.

If there is a question you would like answered on the Advice Smackdown, please submit it to [email protected].

Amy also documented her second pregnancy (with Ezra) in our wildly popular Weekly Pregnancy Calendar, Zero to Forty.

Amy is mother to rising first-grader Noah, preschooler Ezra, and toddler Ike.

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About the Author

Our Pregnancy Calendar, Zero to Forty, was written by Amy Corbett Storch while she was pregnant with her second son, Ezra.

Amy, also known as Amalah, writes the Advice Smackdown and Bounce Back here at Alpha Mom. You can follow her daily mothering adventures at her own site, Amalah.

About the Illustrations

The Zero to Forty illustrations were created by the artist Brenda Ponnay, aka Secret Agent Josephine. Brenda is very talented and these images are copyright-protected. You should hire her if you want your own unique ones.