Pregnancy starts out as a pretty abstract construct. You spend several months worrying about it, concealing it, searching for reassurance of it. Soon enough, you have some nice, round proof, sweet reminders every once in while, but it's just an idea.
And suddenly, it's for real. For real, for real. That reality struck me when Lucy and I measured one of her babies — an infant-sized, healthy-looking thing — and determined that Lemon is a little bigger than that baby. Every so often, I hold that doll up to my abdomen to get a sense of where Lemon is and what's going on in there. Totally weird.