I think Baby Julk-Ped is a rebel…

Because everytime I walk past the police cars in the parking lot at work, I get the puke surges. No vomits yet, but a lot of dry-heaving. I don’t know what it is. Maybe it’s because I’m tired at the end of the day and those stairs really get to me, but it just seems so funny that cop cars would make me wanna barf.

The food dreaming won’t quit. And sometimes it’s food daydreaming. I’ll be lying in bed, trying to fall asleep, and all I can think about is food. Last night it was pies and bacon. Doesn’t a big-ass piece of apple pie sound AMAZING right now? Or lemon meringue?

I have the ultrasound on Thursday. Ashley is coming to hold my hand. I’m nervous, but I think that’s pretty normal. I’m a little scared/excited at the potential for twins. I know that’s a pretty common thought, so I don’t hold too much to it, but, we were rocking the highest level of Clomid yet when this conception occurred, and twins run on both sides of the family.

We’re thinking of names. We’re pretty settled on the girl choices, but boy names are hard. I’m really committed to names that mean something, names that have a heritage, so we’re looking at family and friends names’ as possible choices. C’mon doesn’t Joey Alissandru sound good to you? or Torby Grabbos?

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