This story starts back in Paris, if the truth be known. You can look back at that and other photo essays to set the current one in context.

After the second prenatal scan, today, we feel a bit better about going public. We both found ourselves relieved when we saw the heartbeat flicker, and then astounded when the technician adjusted the ultrasound probe to reveal all four chambers of the little heart, pumping away.

Six of thirty photos in this essay are of the person we refer to as "Little E." The rest testify to the delightfully mild fall we've had in Fife this year, and to the fortune we've had in relocating to a new flat (with room for a tiny nursery, of course). There are a few belly shots, too, mostly at SJD's request.

I should let the essay speak for itself. Those who want to know the gender will have to read to the end.

Update (6 Nov): Thanks especially to the many medical professionals among my relatives for not correcting my Latin. I'm obliged to leave the link as it was, having circulated it already to friends and family. In that case, let the term word be German.

Tags: Personal