No pictures, please

No pictures for this portion of the post. None needed. Any woman who has ever been to an OB/GYN appt can relate. Tom and I just went to our 35 week appt this morning. For those of you who aren't familiar with what happens at these appts, as you near the end of your pregnancy, the doctor has to check you weekly to see how close you are to going into labor. (Although in my book it is still a complete guess and all 100% up to the lil one as to how and when they want to enter the world). The doc checks a few things like how effaced you are...if you're dilated...And to do so she basically jams her finger up you until she can scratch the underside of your brain. So in the midst of all the excitement about how you're coming along, you get reminded very quickly that you are simply a carrier and this whole journey is really about the baby...you vessel!

So, then they tell you how you're doing. Today's initial diagnosis -- unclear. Measuring small. Need an ultrasound. Off we went to the lab where we were told all looked good (fabulous!). And as if to reassure us things are just fine, our lil lady stuck her tongue out at us:
She may be living up to her brother's punk rock name...