I had my first experience of being pregnant in public this week. It’s been cold outside ever since my belly popped so normally when I’m out in public the evidence of my uterine contents is buried under a large puffy jacket and scarf. It was a different story when Alex and I went to his work holiday party on Friday—it was the first time I had people gathering around me (mostly women), staring at the bulge, asking a million questions. And it was my first experience of someone coming up to me and asking “are you pregnant?” It may not sound like an overly exciting experience, but for me it was. It was as if I was being ushered into the secret club I’ve heard about, but never been allowed to step inside of—the mother club. It’s really incredible how your relationships with women change when you are pregnant (and I’m sure even more so when you give birth). Suddenly complete strangers can understand your ecstatic joy and your character-testing pain without words. It’s an incredible thing.

On the nursery front….so frustrated. We (and by we, I mean Alex) finally got to the painting stage after agonizing hours of wallpaper peeling and wall patching….and I hate the paint color. Sigh. Alex was not very pleased with my reaction and utter disgust when I walked into the room (or the money we tossed down the drain by not first buying paint samples). But, I had envisioned very light khaki-colored walls with crisp white trim and instead we ended up with a hideous flesh color. The hormones in me are now going bonkers because I feel this great sense of urgency about the room….like I need to move furniture into it and have it ready for the baby NOW.