At five weeks, the blastocyst becomes an embryo. Essentially, this means that the minute clump of cells becomes a tiny bit bigger and more complex clump of cells. It’s about the size of an apple pip, and it feels like it is moving furniture inside me. The last few days I have had twinges, some of them quite sharp, but still not enough to describe as a cramp.
I’ve also had some bad pain in my neck and shoulder. Good old google told me that this was probably an indicator of ectopic pregnancy, so I rehearsed all the feelings of loss last night before I went to sleep, and woke up feeling strangely positive. When I ran the emergency maternity ward, they agreed that it sounds more like I have slept on it funny, without making me feel like I was being totally neurotic. I wanted to explain – I had a miscarriage – I don’t know when I should worry so I’m going to err on the pessimistic side; but I figure they get this sort of thing umpteen times a day. That’s what they’re there for, and they’re really very nice people.
I’m not too hungry and I’m not too tired, but I’m impressively buxom. Unfortunately for poor Pete, I flinch if his fingers creep within an inch of them. He has a book on pregnancy for men, which assures him this situation will improve: the breasts keep on getting bigger, and stop being so tender – obviously this will make him a happy man.