Bright and early, I went for my ultrasound at 9. Or should I say "we", as I grabbed Stef from work on my way. Of course I was a little apprehensive about it. My driving, in fact, sucked. Stef made sure to point that out.

As usual, we made sure to tell the ultrasound technician that we did not know the sex, nor did we want it revealed today. She was nice. And forthcoming with information, she told us exactly what we wanted to hear - that our baby wasn't a runt! With plenty of amniotic fluid to pad her/his little body to boot! Thank the baby gods!

But I have to say, I really wasn't that nervous because this past week I really feel like I've grown. Or should I say "he/she" has grown because according to all I've read, it is the baby packing on the pounds at this point, not me. In celebration I dropped Stef off back at work, went for a hearty jaunt in Stanley Park, then ate a big greasy breakfast, followed by a chocolate cupcake.

I am now at 33 weeks. Tomorrow I have an ultrasound to check the baby's growth. Apparently, two weeks ago at my last doctor's appointment, I measured a little on the small side. I guess she was a little concerned, but overly so, otherwise she would have sent me in for an ultrasound the next day. Right?