ghostly-looking ultrasound photo that I assure you was an extremely charming and adorable ultrasound MOMENT, during which my newest daughter yawned widely: I know. A little chilling at this time of night, but if you check again in the daylight I think you'll find she's pretty cute. I haven't posted because I've felt I'm expected -- possibly even required -- to post about my father, and...I don't want to. His dying was both expected and a shock. It's complicated, both the Rube Goldberg-like route he took to death and my feelings about it and him and us. Writing about it, even thinking of writing about it, is unwieldy and exhausting. I don't want to, not because it would be too painful, or because I have suddenly developed a sense of propriety that would preclude dissecting my every internal burble in virtual public, but because there is so much else vying for space within my head (to be quite frank, being pregnant after a stillbirth leaves little room for thoughts of anything else), and I am working so hard to believe that Good Things Are Ahead! (i.e. the baby won't die ), that now that it is over -- the seeing him for the last time and the wondering if I ought to have handled that differently and the dying that made such wondering mute -- I want to put it all aside for a bit, taking advantage of the fact that our long near-estrangement means that his death will leave