On… babies

So, we had the six-month scan this week. I goddamn love scans. They are exciting and magic and weird. A monthly reminder that there is a reason I am STILL throwing up (I even threw up in a taxi going up Madison on the way to Mt Sinai). Here is a scan of my womb-mate.


And here’s the 3-D scan.


Isn’t that WILD? (I just gushed for a few lines about how perfect and gorgeous he is, but then I remembered that I used to be tres vocal about how totally fucking boring I found Facebook baby updates that didn’t have a point/joke, so I decided to shut up. If you are bored by babies… I get it, I’m sorry. What can I say? I’m self-involved! Let’s talk about ME.)

I wasn’t crazy about 3-D scans when I was preggers with Errol. I thought they all looked like underwater alien babies. But now I think they’re so goddamn cool. Like a tiny glimpse into the future. Look at this six-month-in-the-womb 3-D scan of Errol…


… and look at Errol aged two. Not too dissimilar, huh? Big chubby cheeks in a thoughtful frowny little face. He came out with worry wrinkles. So adorable.


Just an extra bonus scan, in case scans are your thang: Errol, at about 16 weeks, sucking his thumb. CUTE.



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