Maybe the Blogger Ate Your Baby

I have written two posts today that were eaten by the internet. Two, scandalous, confessional style posts full of juicy pregnancy details.

Okay, mostly they were about farts and my brother Matt's delicate constitution. Special to my brother: I will stop talking about blowjobs, but that doesn't change the fact that this baby was, in fact conceived. In a way that involves actual sex.

So, simmah down naw.

Speaking of actual sex, I may have created a monster. T and I were talking last night about um, a thing that we may not be able to do until sometime after the baby is born. When I asked him if he could imagine not being able to do this particular, uh, thing for the next really long time he said, "oh, you mean with you?" And lo, it was funny, until he told me I should definitely put it in the blog.

THUS RENDERING IT NOT SO FUNNY ANYMORE.

Special to T: Stop thinking of new material for the blog. You're hurting the baby.

I have the ultrasound that determines my own upright-ness for the next 27 weeks tomorrow morning. I'm a little nervous, but hoping that everything will be just fine.

Honestly though? Every morning when my alarm goes off, I think for just a moment that bedrest wouldn't be so bad.

I hope I didn't tempt fate by recording that shameful thought.