Uhhhhh

Can't.
Blog.
No.
Matter.
How.
Hard.
I.
Try.

And you'd think I'd have plenty to talk about seeing as how I'm 20 weeks pregnant and such. Especially since I had all these aspirations of blogging about my pregnancy for posterity and memories and whatever.

But.
No.

Introducing....

Robert Harrison Illingworth!

We had our ultrasound yesterday and it was surreal seeing that little guy squirming and stretching and rolling and hiccuping. He's perfect and precious and should be making an appearance early June. The tech said he's measuring for a due date of June 9th - my 35th birthday.

And no, we couldn't be happier.

If Willie Were A Woman

You're right, I should update with something. Anything. But I've been too busy mourning the death of my old laptop and crying at the price of the new laptop and eating leftovers and playing my new piano and sitting on the couch. I'm busy. But there is one thing I wanted to say.

To all the girls I've judged before, my humble apologies. When friends would tell me things like "pregnancy sucks" or "I hate being pregnant" or "I'm not sure I could go through this again" I would secretly judge them. How could you call a miracle something horrid! Pregnancy is a privilege! Get over yourself!

Oh naive GlamJo. If only I had known. And yes, pregnancy IS a miracle and a blessing and the greatest thing. But it's also constant heartburn. And gas. And psychotic mood swings that swing from hopelessness to rage within seconds. And extreme exhaustion. And tough.

But we find out who it is on Thursday.

Yay!