I call it "Noon at 9 weeks."

I was looking through old photos and found a sequence from a day spent, from what I remember, almost entirely in my room in our PJs. February and March were very long months this year.



I just noticed the thermometer on my bookcase. Funny...I took my temperature every morning until I felt the baby move at around 15 weeks. Paranoid? Perhaps.

I have to say, as long as these last few weeks are, they are nowhere near as long as the first few. I will definitely take being cumbersome over being nauseated...and thank goodness I haven't had to deal with both at the same time. (knock on wood)

Looking back, I have nothing to complain about my pregnancies. I felt pretty crummy for several weeks, but it was easier to deal with than the first time around. In addition to caring and thoughtful friends, Theo was a blessing in this regard. Either he kept me so busy I almost forgot how sick I felt, or on the worst days he was content to play on the floor or in his crib for long stretches while I wallowed or dozed, or forced myself to eat. And clearly I didn't feel so bad that I didn't think to document it.

Here's another one from a different day in March--we also spent a lot of time on this futon in those first months. Thank you, thank you, Theo.

Oh and Theo, I'm sorry that you have no idea what is in store for you next month. Or maybe you do. Anyway I promise it will be worth it in the long run.