<blockquote><font class="small">In reply to:</font><hr /><p>Isn't that sort of like being slightly pregnant?<p><hr /></p></p></blockquote><br /><br />*grins* Well, I've just hit the third trimester of pregnancy myself, so I can say that it is actually true that there are levels of pregnancy. <img src="/images/icons/wink.gif" /> When the little blue line shows up on the test, you're slightly pregnant. (That is, unless you're one of the unlucky ones, you still feel fine, you fit in all your clothes, and you don't look like a beached whale.) By the third trimester, that ain't so anymore. By the third trimester, you're very pregnant. By the ninth month, phrases such as "heavily pregnant" and "extremely pregnant" apply. Your life is at this point defined by your pregnancy. Total strangers ask to touch your tummy, and even ask deeply personal questions like whether or not you plan to have an episiotomy. You can't get comfortable. Ever. You get kicked in odd portions of your internal anatomy right while you're trying to concentrate on a business meeting.<br /><br />Trust me on this. <img src="/images/icons/wink.gif" /> There is such a thing as slightly pregnant, as proven by the fact that *very* pregnant is a definite condition. <div class="Discussion_UserSignature"> <p> </p><p><font color="#666699"><em>"People assume that time is a strict progression of cause to effect, but actually from a non-linear, non-subjective viewpoint it's more like a big ball of wibbly wobbly . . . timey wimey . . . stuff."</em> -- The Tenth Doctor, "Blink"</font></p> </div>