24 weeks

It's official, little un-named girl in my belly. You are now legally a "viable fetus." Did you know that if you had decided to come yesterday, the doctors would do nothing for you? But because that miracle hour of midnight has passed - and because some disinterested lawmakers in Salt Lake determined it - if you were to come today, they would do everything possible to help you. Such a small milestone, but so huge in my mind. Not that you'll be coming anytime soon. No, I get four more months of feeling you move around and watching my belly (and hemorrhoids, and arms, and butt) grow larger and larger. Aah, the joys. But I wouldn't trade it. You've actually been pretty nice to me, little girl. Aside from the frequent and horrible headaches, it's been relatively easy to carry you around. Sure, I'm starting to get the swelling and bruised feeling between my legs, but you've been kind enough to let me wait until now. Tori only let me have four months of pain-free walking, and Faith gave me less than three months. Michael let me have almost eight months, but you'll soon learn that Michael does everything on his own timetable. Everything.

So anyway, welcome to the age of viability!