I know mine has. See, I've been busy gestating and stuff since, oh, about March 26 or so, if you believe everything those online conception calculators tell you. And while one would think that pregnancy would give me a lot to think about, and therefore write about, allow me to be the first to tell you that even a mere penny is not worth it for my thoughts. I can say this much: The reason that I am awake at 1:45 on a German Friday morning — the sudden need to eat followed immediately by the more sudden need to puke — tells you that I am not having the kind of pregnancy that they lie to you about in books. Here it is, week 17 of 40, and I am still barfing like a sorority pledge on her first outing at a frat house. I am, if nothing else, consistent.
So, to sum up, the persistent nausea and tiredness, coupled with uncontrollable hunger and general crabbiness have kept me from formulating any interesting thoughts as of late. And now it's slowing dawning on me how much is going to be changing for us come December. But then again, Baby S. is already waking me up in the middle of the night, so that'll be nothing new.
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