I like naming things. From my cats Velvet (I was 9 and she was soft!), Sammer (she seemed like a Sam) and Willow (I was a burgeoning lesbian with a certain vampire-slayer sidekick on the mind) to my cars Jean-Luc (was white and bald), Rorge (sounded like a Jetson car), Jango (looked like a blue Mandalorian helmet) and Jedi (a Jetta!), finding the proper name for something has always been very important to me. Indeed, as a palaeontologist, I spent far more time looking into etymology than I did researching the functional morphology upon which my thesis was based.

Today is our first ultrasound. If all goes well we should find out if we have one, two, three, four (or more!) babies on the go!

We debated whether or not to put in two embryos. I was concerned for K's health (she has injured her back in the past) any the babies' health and, between you and me, am a little scared of two babies (let alone two babies all at once!). We went with two to increase our odds of getting pregnant, especially given the journey (emotional and physical) that this has been. Note: a recent study suggests that our logic on that isn't entirely sound.