15 weeks.
So today it was hot here in Denver. Really, really hot. It could of course have been hotter, but I’m pregnant, and 94°F (that’s 34.4°C for those lucky enough to be outside the U.S., or 307.4°K for graduate students stuck in their labs for the summer) and really sunny is hot enough for a pregnant woman, thank you, even if it is nice and dry. We get all swollen and grumpy and yucky. We hates the heat. All I can say for it is that rather fortunately, Denver seems to drop about 20°F at night, so nighttime rocks. But the days? Unless it’s cloudy, I could do without baking.
And it’s 7:45 pm, and still 87°F outside. Blah. Cool down, damnit!
I woke up this morning because I was too hot, headed for the (much) cooler basement, and puttered around in a grumpy, hot mood for a while before the highlight of the day.
And then it came. Cold… Swimming… Action. Soothing, cool, clean water. With my husband. In a huge, clean, indoor pool, with very few people around.
Christian and I took a lane to ourselves, had a few leisurely laps, stretched the pregnant woman out sufficiently, and generally had a nice, relaxing time. And it was so nice and cool.
With no air conditioning, you know where I’m spending my summer afternoons…
It was sheer bliss.
Hmmm… if my husband doesn’t get his act together with names, I think I’m going to name this kid after the pool. 
Professional computer geek and linguist living in Germany, doing infosec stuff and being the freakiest mother ever.
Oh, I know how you feel! Last summer, I was in the last weeks of my pregnancy and it was around 35 Celcius here for a couple of weeks (over 40 with the humidex), and we were fortunate enough to have just moved into our new home – which came with a pool in the backyard! WOOT!
In the spirit of keeping cool, I think Pool is a fine name…