Still puking now and then, but less than before. Rather annoying though.
My size has already reached epic proportions. I said to Brad last night, "I look nine months pregnant already!" He looked at my belly and then said, "No, maybe about six," trying to make me feel better. Gulp.
Tonight we're taking a two-hour class on "Birth Order and Sibling Relationships," hoping to solve any future strife between Z and new brother or sister before it starts. Yeah, right.
Sonogram in two weeks (or so) and we *might* find out the gender. Brad and I are still
fighting about discussing it. I'm kidding there, really. Brad has agreed that -- if it's important to me -- we can find out this time. (It was important to him NOT to find out the last time.)