So that's my day, every day. It's better than being constantly lightheaded, nauseated, and/or fatigued, so I'm not complaining. Too much.
When Andy took the 12-week baby bump picture, he said, "This is weird. You look like you have an alien." Maybe we'll have to christen the baby "Ripley."
Loose-fitting clothing is a huge relief. I even went back and bought the jeans with the big elastic top, even though I won't get away with wearing them out anywhere yet, because it would be a dead giveaway.
The whole secret-keeping thing is starting to get really old. Can we just spread the news already? Thirteen days until the heartbeat appointment. Eight weeks until we find out the gender. Andy has asked me what I think, but I have absolutely no instincts about whether it's a boy or a girl. I think his cousin knew hers was a boy before the ultrasound. Is it normal to have that instinct? Is it accurate?
From "Gold Dust" by Tori Amos:
Letting names hang in the air
What color hair
Autumn knowingly stared
And the day that she came
Freezing that frame...
How did it go so fast
You'll say as we are looking back
And then we'll understand
We held gold dust in our hands
