I finally weighed myself on Sunday morning - up 5 pounds. Not too bad, considering how much starch I've been eating. I definitely have a pouch - my book says it could be baby or fat or and bloating. That's nice. I'd much rather think of it as baby. Had an okay weekend. I actually felt good for 6 hours straight on Saturday. That was lovely.

We went to church on Sunday, which was wonderful, as usual. The pastor is truly gifted - he can speak on so many different subjects with such compassion and interest and curiosity and poignancy and with the open heart that I treasure about this church. This sermon was on the choices we make for our children, so it felt especially touching to me. I am going to see if I can find his sermons on line.

I'm emotional. I cry at the drop of a hat. And as I said to Amy, not just tearing up, but out-right sobs. Its embarassing. And inconvenient. And kind of funny.

And as much as I love my husband, he has got to leave the house. I never have any alone time there. Never. And we're getting short with each other because of it.

Next week is our first baby appointment!!