Oh baby!

Yep, it's official, Beatrice is going to be a big sister.  I'm pregnant.  Almost 15 weeks now.  Due December 7th.  However, anyone who's seen me recently (i.e., anytime in the last 8 weeks!) already knew that.  If you didn't notice, you might want to get your eyesight checked.

By way of comparison, and because it made me laugh/cry instead of just cry, here's a picture of me at 6-7 weeks pregnant with #2 (left) and me 7-8 weeks pregnant with Beatrice (right):

I USED TO HAVE A WAIST!!!  A little one.  Wow, I'd forgotten about that.  And if memory serves correctly those were my 'big' jeans.  Ha ha ha, sniffle.  So the funny part:

The picture of me blowing my hair dry - there's a very good story behind that.  Zach and I planned to have Beatrice...only we thought it would take a lot longer than it did for me to get pregnant.  So, living in London, trying to conceive, and planning lots of far away trips, thinking 'oh this won't happen for at least 6 months!'...Barcelona, Croatia, South Africa, Namibia...all places I went in the first trimester with Beatrice.  Seriously, seriously bad planning.  

The picture was taken in Croatia.  We went to visit Andreja and Urban in Slovenia, and we traveled with them over the long Easter weekend to Croatia.  We all stayed in a rental flat above the owner's home.  When we arrived the wife was at mass, and so the husband showed us around and offered us homemade alcohol and food.  I know I passed on the first, who knows on the second.  The next day, or the day after, was Easter morning and our hostess brought up homemade bread with hardboiled eggs baken in, a plate of meats, cheeses, pickles...and homemade grappa in an old Evian bottle!  At 9am.  

When I passed on the early morning shots, she demanded to know why.  Urban explained (as he was the only one who could speak Croatian), that I was pregnant and not up for grappa.  At least not at that hour.  Well, this woman lit into me.  After about 10 minutes of near-yelling, I got Urban to translate:  "You're pregnant!?!  Go dry your hair, put some socks on, you need to take care of that baby!"  Really, that was it after 10 minutes?  But she was serious; she marched downstairs (still yelling) and returned with her daughter's hairdryer (still yelling).  Which she wanted me to use right then.  Too bad the picture didn't capture my feet - they were safely ensconced in thick socks by that point.

And here I am at 17 weeks pregnant with Beatrice in Georgia, June 2006 (left), and at 12 weeks pregnant with ? in Princeton, June 2009 (right)!  What a difference having no stomach muscles makes.

We're all very happy.