I've neglected you terribly. You didn't even get an "It's a boy!" shout-out on the blog. Shameful, bad mommy.
Well, I've got until the end of June to do right by you... (I don't suppose you want to do me a flavour and pop out before the 21st? I'd rather fancy a Gemini baby.) We're packed like sardines in our townhouse - be it ever so humble - but even so, you're getting your own room. Ta-dah!
There's a name all picked out for you: Oliver Daniel. Unless, you know, you come out distinctly un-Oliverish. What does an Oliver look like? Damned if I know. But I'm trusting in the universe to send me some cosmic crash-boom-bang feeling if it's not right.
Here's your mom at 21 weeks. This is pretty much the only photo in existence of me rocking a baby bump, by the way. Yes, those are velvet tracksuit pants - the horror.
Here's hoping that between now and your wedding day I develop some fashion sense.