I should've put this picture up earlier, but I lost my camera batteries and was too forgetful to go out and buy new ones.

But I finally got some. I'll have more pictures in the coming days.

As Hsui-Li, our midwife, said today, that's already a six-pound baby in there.

Elisa's back hurts. Her feet are swollen. We have to do do perinial massages (not as nice as it sounds. Google it if you want the gory details). The baby is an active one, and enjoys kicking Elisa's spine and ribs.

Elisa still has nose bleeds (like the one at our prenatal massage class where she spurted blood all over herself and me. I was wearing a white t-shirt. I looked like a wife beater). Did I mention her back hurts?

And it's driving Elisa crazy that she still doesn't know the baby's sex. She's now collecting baby dreams from family members trying to extract deeper meaning from those sleeptime hallucinations. When she dreamt it was a girl, she decided the baby was a girl. Her mother dreamt of a girl too. Then me.

But then Elisa dreamt she had puppies. What the hell did that mean? And then three days ago, I dreamt we had a boy. Chaos! Elisa demands order. And she demands to know the sex of our baby. And if she doesn't find out soon enough, she'll kill me. Seriously, I'm actually a bit worried. It's her singular obsession, helping her temporarily forget the aforementioned back aches, and bloody noses, and painful kicks, and swollen feet, and perinial massages, etc.

Granted, none of that is as bad as me missing Chicago during World Series time, but let's not forget that Elisa is going through a bit of discomfort as well. I guess it all evens out in the end.