Edible Babies? Pregnancy App Compares Fetus Size to Produce
Just because you can't compare apples to oranges doesn't mean you can't compare both apples and oranges to the size of the fetus growing inside your womb.
Leah Palmer Press/Flikr Commons Fruit + Fetus = Fructus
And the What to Expect app does just that.
Once a mommy-to-be inputs her due date, she'll receive a weekly update about the increasing size of the minihuman inside her. Throughout the 40-week sojourn, this self-help pregnancy spirit guide will compare the shape of your infant to the least threatening mass out there: fruits and veggies.
Starting out harmlessly with peppercorn and poppy seeds, the produce choices will surmount to pineapples and eventually melons. And if schlepping these in your arm basket weren't enough, just imagine the beautiful miracle of squeezing something the size of a canary melon out of you.
Simply put, the What to Expect app tells expectant mothers to expect a humanizing mass inside them, and to lessen the confusion, each week that growth is compared to the size of something from the produce department.
Green olives? Oh you mean that green thing they jam onto the toothpicks in your martini...
Beginning with nonthreatening crops like pomegranate seeds and blueberries, it's easy to grasp the idea of one of these resting in a uterus, and in fact, it might even be a little endearing.
That is, until week 16 and the thumb-suckling unborn infant is compared to an avocado. And you think that better be a Hass avocado from Whole Foods and not those GMO-injected superhuman green ones being sold on the side of the road.
But it only gets worse from there. By week 19, that thing you have begun to feel squirm and kick inside you is vividly compared to a mango dipped in cheese. It goes on to explain that this "greasy white stuff" called vernix caseosa is wrapped around the kid. And you get it: It's more like Swiss cheese than a cheddar.
Unless you've already booked a cesarean, don't bother checking your phone that last trimester, or at the very least after week 33. Seriously, just stop. At week 33, your almost full-grown kid is the size of a pineapple. Granted your kid's not donning any porcupine spikes -- assuming you didn't stand too close to the microwave -- but they do mention tiny hairs called lanugo have begun sprouting on it.
From there, it's all cantaloupes, honey dew melons, canary melons, and watermelons until your water finally bursts from the pressure. While it'll be a relief to see your infant looking like the others in the nursery and not, well, an eggplant, after this 40-week ordeal, you'll never be able to stroll through the produce department the same way. But who knows? You might find yourself next to the butternut squash and reminisce about your pregnancy and that time your baby was a fruit-sized question mark and not a crying, hungry, fanged, breastfeeding homo sapien.