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My due date is
May 24, 2001

Today I am
23 weeks, 3 days

I'm not weighing myself anymore -- it's just easier on my mental state that way.


We are having a
girl, and her name is
Isolde June.

January 28, 2001


I'm sorry I've been away for, like, way too long. Do you even want to hear my excuses? I didn't think so. Suffice it to say that between work and pregnancy I haven't had much energy for getting on the computer.


Everything is still going entirely too wonderfully for me to believe. It's like some cosmic scales have decided that things must be balanced; because we had such an incredibly hard time conceiving, I get to have the Perfect Pregnancy. I'm hoping this is going to spill over past the pregnancy too... I'd really like to have the mythical Baby Who Sleeps Through the Night as well (hey, four years of infertility is a long time -- I'm not sure a good pregnancy alone can make up for it).

I feel really good most of the time. There are still some minor annoyances -- I don't have enough energy, I've started getting Braxton Hicks contractions already, I haven't been able to breathe through my nose since September -- but on the whole everything's fine. Those things that other pregnant women complain about -- constipation and heartburn and moodiness -- have passed me right by.


I look soooooo pregnant, and I absolutely love my new body. I think it looks good on me. When I walk past anything where I can see my reflection -- a mirror, a window, a shiny car -- I look out the corner of my eye and admire my curve of a belly. I know it's more than a little narcissistic, but I can't help myself. I've also found myself touching my belly constantly. I'll rest a hand on it or stroke it nearly all the time, without even thinking about it. It used to absolutely drive me crazy when pregnant women would do this (I would think about how evil they were to flaunt their pregnancies right in my face like that), but now that I'm the one who's pregnant it doesn't seem that rude. It's just an instinctual thing, is all. And such a handy place to rest your hand!

My husband is also enamored with my new shape. He's very proud of it and does little things (unconsciously, I think) to draw people's attention to my pregnancy when we're out in public. It's cute. I think it makes him feel like Mr. Virile Manly Man to have such an obviously pregnant wife. It's, like, "Hey, look at her! I did that." Ah, male vanity. But I'm glad that he's as happy as I am.


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