We were at Teddy's doctor's office yesterday, he was having his 18 months shots (um, yep, tiny bit late. I suck) and the waiting room was LOUSY with tiny pink parcels of cute, or 'ovary bait' as I like to think of them.
Sweet little squishies ranging from 2 weeks to 6 months all kitted out in pink Baby Gap. Oodles of them.
I had forgotten.
Forgotten how completely irresistible tiny-baby noises are. From the mewling lip-smacking of the brand spanking new ones to the delighted-with-the-world chuckles of five and six months old. And I'm pretty sure (based on no scientific evidence whatsoever) that the little blighters give off some kind of give-me-loves-I'm-awesome pheromones.
I had to come home and look at this, call it aversion therapy if you will:
Hoo Yah! There it is!
Are you wondering "Dude? Dude, what is up with your lips?"
I bet you were, and let me tell you, in detail and at some length.
Pre-eclampsia is what is up with my lips, gaining 35 lbs in three weeks is what is up with my lips. All of it on my face. I didn't even know that lips could get fat, but yep, apparently they can. If you poked me I dented then sprung back, like a water bed.
As lousy as I looked, I felt worse. This picture was taken at 7.15 pm on the day I was induced; I had gone for my 37 week check-up at 11.30 that morning. I'd had like 7 or 8 different sets of hands up my foo foo, I was in a room on the high risk pregnancy ward and I was having teeny weeny contractions. And it was still a better day than the day before when it looked like I had another three weeks of the suckiest time of my life still to go. Also, have I mentioned the puking?
So yah, pregnancy. Not my favorite.