Thirty.

Thirty down.

Ten to go.

Holy crap.

Baby size: Cucumber.  Or Squash, depending on who you ask (who makes up these things, anyway???)
15.2 to 16.7 inches
2.5-3.8 lbs
20 pounds gained - no additional weight since my last check up two weeks ago, but baby is still measuring fine.

70 days left. 

I don't pee when I laugh or sneeze.  I consider this a victory, because I feel like peeing all the time.  There are not enough potty breaks in the world to ease my need to pee, which I don't remember from having Leah. 

I mean, I know I peed a lot - I've got the photographic proof - but I remember feeling that sense of relief, even if it was only temporary.  So, really what I'm saying is that Peanut has parked himself on my bladder.  It must be comfy, like a soft, squishy pillow, cause I haven't not had to pee in like three days. 

If you paid me seven million dollars, I still couldn't take care of my personal hygene issues.  I'll spare you the details on that front, but if you've been pregnant, you know exactly where I'm talking about not being able to shave.

No heartburn.
No stretch marks (yet?).
No odd cravings.
Some sleep.
Mostly mello emotions, all impending major life events and solo-parenting considered.
Wedding rings on.
Tons and tons of movement.

No major medical maladies to speak of, save for the contractions which happen on a daily basis, and still no one seems to be concerned about.

Best moment of the week: Bringing Leah to bed with me in the middle of the night after she very, very sweetly asked if she could snuggle with me.  Feeling her warm, cuddly body against mine, breath heavy with sleep, as Baby wiggled away between the two of us.  My two little loves, safe and sound, and together.

Thirty?  Sheer perfection. 

The countdown has begun.  And it's soooooo wonderful.