A picture of my prison.

Hello again, future minions,

I thought you might like to see a photograph of my current dwellings - the stripes are rather fitting, wouldn't you say?



The female is doing very well, thank you, although I often hear through the 'gripe-vine' that it's getting too hot for her.

Indeed - the weather in this neck of the womb is balmy to say the least.
Not only is there a lot of moisture in here, but the sweat rushing off my father's greasy pate right now could power a small Peruvian village - if they had a decent understanding of hydro-electricity stations and weren't too busy bothering their llamas.

I have been giving mother a few reminders these past few nights as to my current agitation, and she claims that my movements feel like bubbles of trapped gas.

If only she knew. It so happens that my experiments with methane pockets have proven quite fruitful - and, suffice to say, I think we can look forward to an explosive birth!

20 weeks to go... ooh, the anticipation!

Another week down - 20 to go....

Greetings, fervent followers of all that is Harrison,

Well, the parental units took me to see Dr. Crowe again today. She cooed and twittered and said that my carrier is in tip-top health and that I appear to be doing very well.
She listened to my heartbeat again and they all marvelled at how strong it sounded - of course it did, I was working out at the time.
It turns out Fisher Price make step-masters for any size womb, and I've been putting mine to good use - after all, I don't want to end up like my alleged 'father'.



Yes, I've seen him, now that I've had this periscope added to my prison (it sticks out of my carrier's belly button - it was navel surplus). I can see everything that goes on. And I don't like it. I don't like it one bit.

I had the impression that I was being born to a couple of high socialites - not a would-be filmmaker and a shoe fetishist. Ah well, you can't choose your family, eh?

At least they seem to be taking me seriously now, attending furniture safety classes and looking at car seats in catalogues.

I think it's slowly dawning on them that I am indeed a reality, and that in 20 week's time it will all be about me.

Me, me, ME!

Baby update! My parents can stop calling me 'it' now!!

Greetings loyal subjects,

Baby Gill Baker here with another staggering update for you.

My parental units took me to get some more photos taken today, it seems the last batch all sold out.

Here is one of my new ones - I turned my head away at the last second so that they couldn't see I was eating a pepperoni stick.



Anyhoo, in the course of the ultrasound, the nurse made a staggering discovery - and announced to my guards that they were expecting a baby boy!

Well duh, I could have told them that if they'd bothered to ask me. I've known I was a boy for ages, ever since I made the mistake of thinking I had two umbilical cords.

Here's the proof! (I think it's still legal to show my bits online like this).



This works out well for them, as nobody they told seemed to like the name Olivia Buttercup - I always saw myself as a bit of a Harrison anyway, and that's my user name in my chatwomb, so it has all come together nicely.

So there you have it. The male parental unit now has an heir to his vast Star wars collection, and the female parental unit will soon be rushing out to buy packets of pee-pee teepees.

Until we meet again,

Harrison James Baker out.

EDIT: By the way, I should mention that the amniotic fluid was pretty cold today. Just mentioning...