Last Friday, I had my last appointment until we find out if Baby S. will be a mini-Kyle or a mini-Elizabeth. I went by myself because Kyle didn't have the time to spare at work, and even though the majority of the visit feels like a true waste of an hour (because at this point, peeing in a cup is far from exciting and weighing myself is increasingly depressing), every second is worth it to hear our baby's heartbeat. It's strong, if you're curious.
The whole visit got me thinking: what is this little devil going to look like? I have to admit, the more time passes, the more my curiosity starts to rear it's ugly little head; it is starting to become an all consuming thing, this wondering about baby.
So I did what any rational pregnant woman (this, of course, is an oxymoron, if you'll remember rule number one in this post) would do: I drummed up some photos of me and my baby daddy from childhood. Which has only led to increased mental anguish, naturally.
Take a looksy and tell me what you think... I can only imagine how our genes are going to combine to make our perfect little bambino.
Baby Daddy (aka Kyle):
and me (aka Elizabeth):
And apologies for the somewhat blurry photos! I had to take a picture of them since our scanner's not hooked up, and the quality is less than stellar.