I want to write, but there is something about coming here and there is nobody here, no one to read - I want to talk to someone sympatico, I suppose, where there suddenly just are things to say, and a tone or mood of speaking that makes everything all right, that is like a river going on and on, with its steady lack of intention.

The nausea seems to be lifting, day by day. Baby so much bigger in the scan today. And not bouncing, just waving arms and legs around like seaweed in current.