Here's a fun one. For some reason, only now when I am starting to regain a glimmer of my former shape (albeit, a slightly hippier, stretch markier version of that former self) can I get any enjoyment out of my pregnant pictures. At the time when I was pregnant I did not feel beautiful in any way. Now, I can't say I look at them and think they are beautiful. But I do get a certain thrill in looking at myself and knowing that Sofia, tiny little adorable precious Sofia, was in there. She was her, even then. She liked to sleep in; often not waking up until after 10 in the morning, which she still does. I know because she would be eerily still until then every morning. Then she would start kicking athletically away until 2 or so in the morning. I knew her before I saw her and she was mine from the very beginning. So what's a few stretch marks in the face of that?