So, turns out I have found myself in an "Emily Kmetko" way. Surprise!
All of the barfing and extreme fatigue had put a tiny damper in my ability to blog. Or really, my ability to do anything but lay miserably on the couch. Some people will have you believe that being knocked up is a wonderful and magical time. They're lying. Suffice it to say I haven't been landing any jaegers to my stomach in the past two months. Assholes.
That said, the miserable portion is more or less over for me, at least for now. I am now entering the fat, happy, and hopefully bloggy stage. This only strengthens my resolve to push the Spanny Tampson/ Uncle Tim ticket for the next FIG elections, because as it stands now, my offspring will be a mere five months short of being eligible for the 2028 Games. Unacceptable!
So thanks for understanding, friends. If anyone has a lead on some baby Mag 7 team finals onesies, please let me know. Until then, I'll be hanging my Dougie posters in the nursery. TIA!