Today is my wife's and my fourth wedding anniversary, and it's the hottest and muggiest day of the year. R is beginning to show what *might be* the early signs of labour, and I've had to come home early from work due to the sudden onset of some flu-like virus which has me bedridden and delirious with a cold wet flannel on my forehead.
So much for that quiet romantic dinner...
(I will of course post any baby-related updates, if indeed they let me in the hospital like this.)
Update: Rach wasn’t going into labour, it was yet more ‘Braxton Hicks’.