I'm officially 30 weeks along in this pregnancy and for some reason, that sounds like a crazy number to me. 30? Really? Where did that come from! I was laying in bed last night pondering the fact that I am 3/4ths of the way finished carrying this baby and so much of the early days seems like a distant memory. Remember, Bethany, back in August and September and October when surviving the days was your number one goal? When you'd wake up in the middle of the night sick beyond belief, but starving at the same time and just crying, wanting the morning sickness to be over? Do you remember working out in the second trimester and hating Summer Sanders for telling you you should have energy when you still felt like a zombie? I feel like I started to enjoy being pregnant only recently and yet I'm amazed at how quickly my mind and my body can forget what was, not that long ago, quite tortuous. But now, here I am, with a belly to behold and movements inside of me that are totally unmistakeable as human, and this whole pregnancy thing doesn't seem that bad. Maybe its because when I feel discomfort now, I know its for her sake. Before it was just sickness for sickness sake and it was easy to resent that. But now that it feels like my hips are splitting in two and like someone whacked my pelvis with a bat, I feel no resentment because I know its not her fault and I love her too much to mind. I wonder if I'll feel any different about morning sickness the next time I'm pregnant, having felt this human and knowing that its for her? I don't think we intend to get pregnant again any time soon, but it is interesting how the heart and the mind and the body are so joined and how we really do do crazy things in the name of love.