31 weeks

I always dread asking for the bathroom when I’m pregnant because, suddenly, I become a cliche. Oh! She’s pregnant! Of COURSE she needs to pee! Get this girl to the bathroom! But, actually, I have to go to the bathroom because I’m a human. In fact, I bet you’ve used the bathroom today. Maybe even more

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Semantics

While I was pregnant with them, I knitted blankets for both of my babies. A green one for David, a purple one for Mary Virginia. They have their initials on them, and as soon as they’re born, I use it all the time to try to convince them to choose it as their comfort blanket. These take a

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The one and only thing on my baby registry

I’ve never had anything against minivans. Maybe it’s because I drove my mom’s minivan a lot in high school, or maybe because I’ve just always driven cars for their function and economy over coolness. (Except, I did have a 1985 Bronco II when I was in college. Even though the paint was peeling and — with no warning —

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Just a bit past the halfway point

Last week, on the morning of New Year’s Eve, I had my 20-week ultrasound, except I was actually 21 weeks. Here’s a funny story, when I went to the OB for my first appointment, I thought I was only eight weeks pregnant. Before I left for the appointment I warned Tom, “There’s a chance I

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Drawing battle lines

There’s a pile of maternity clothes folded on the floor of my bedroom. Even though I’m still shaped like Humpty Dumpty, my maternity clothes don’t fit anymore, so they’re waiting to be sent back to the attic. They’re sitting in my closet, under my regular clothes that don’t really fit either. Ah, postpartum is such

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