Last June

Whenever I come across really fantastic pregnancy photos I get all nostalgic about being pregnant.  While I didn't actually "love it", like my sweet Grandma Jeanne said she had, I was so thankful to actually be pregnant, that I sort of loved it.  Lukewarm loving it, boiling hot gratitude.

I also spent most of my pregnancy dodging (or waddling) away from the camera.  Phil's sister even posted a (very cute) photo of me (reading storybooks to all the little cousins) taken two days before I had Sean, and I freaked out and sent her a remove-that-photo-yesterday message, rather indignant about having any pregnancy photos of me out there. Who was I kidding? I think I gained enough water weight to serve as a thirsty camel troops' Sahara canteen.

This is a photo of my dad and me, just before dinner at Nectar, last June, when I was at least seven months along. I think it was a brilliant plan of mine to take him out to dinner for Father's Day.  Pregnancy brought out that sort of brilliance in me.

That lukewarm love I had for being pregnant is warming-up with time.  I miss it.  It was amazing to look forward to birth, to long to know what your baby looked like, and to just marvel that you were actually growing a person.  Crazy.  Why don't we lay eggs?  or just "add water" to instant-baby mix?  Amazing.