This has been one strange pregnancy. Baby girl looks fabulous, is measuring to a decent size (and by decent I mean she may be a big one!), and is moving happily and peacefully in her warm, safe space. My body, however, has been on the fritz. The first two go-arounds (haha, get it...) were textbook-boring. My doctor teased me about it each appointment, lovingly, and with deep wisdom. I had some usual aches and pains, weak bladder, swelling, 18-point-turn to roll over at night, but I passed every test, and nothing alarming or unusual happened at all. Raising my boys has given me lots of grey hair already, but carrying them was the least of it! Most of you know my story with Evelyn. Carrying her was more a spiritual season than a physical one. I passed the 28 week mark this pregnancy a handful of weeks ago (28 weeks was when I delivered Evelyn), and thought of her. I looked at my round belly and all that comes with that, and remembered how different her presence inside me was. Her