I cannot handle the TINY-NESS of these things.

On Sunday my mom threw the fetus a party, and my aunties and my cousins came, and my in-laws and my sister and her in-laws, and my neighbor and her daughter and my Robyn (between two night shifts) and my Laura (who drove all the way from Abbotsford) and now the fetus has enough party dresses to last her at least a year.

Gifts ranged from the practical

to the delightfully impractical

and if she ends up accidentally being a he, he is going to have nothing to wear.  Except maybe this leopard-print number.

There's something about tiny hats and tiny shoes, because people can't not buy them.  I now have loads of both, and I will not complain because AIEEE SO TINY.  Also, I want to roll around in a heap of swaddling blankets.

Mum asked the internet what our babies would look like, and the internet spat out THIS, which is why you never ask the internet anything.

I was looking at these pictures later with Joel, and I was like, Holy cats, I am so pregnant.  Because I can't usually see myself except top-down, and from up here my belly is overshadowed by my ridiculous breasts.  But lo, I am pregnant indeed.

7 more weeks(ish), yo.