I recently discovered (and have since become obsessed with learning about) an amazing kind of coat, called an Amautik (also amaut or amauti, plural amautiit). Unlike other babywearing outerwear that I am familiar with, the Amautik is a baby carrier and coat all-in-one. The traditional coat of the Canadian Inuit people, these garments have a built-in pouch for carrying a baby or child on the adult's back, and are as beautiful as they are practical. Just look:
Customarily made of animal skins or thick woolen cloth, the Amautik holds the baby against the mother's back inside the pouch and feature sumptuous, oversized hoods that are large enough to cover both mother and child. They look sooooo cozy. Here are a couple of modern-day interpretations that I discovered online: 
The twins, however, are not so sure what to think. The adults are trying to pull a fast one - trying to convince them how fun it will be once the baby arrives - but they are wise to our little con. At night they caucus in their bunk beds, scheming and plotting in their private language.
In an atmosphere of anticipation and uncertainty, the twins root around my parents' toy chest for familiar, well loved things. Uncharacteristically, they skip over the shiny plastic gew gaws, pulling out Lamby (my beloved eyeless, partially crippled stuffed sheep) and cradling Ronkey (my cherished eyeless, partially hairless stuffed donkey) instead. They unearth my brother's old train set, my father's tin soldiers, a set of old moldy blocks, a forgotten slide rule. Perhaps it's the comfort of continuity that draws them to these unglamorous, down-at-heel vestiges of our childhood. Three generations of sticky fingers have pawed and cuddled and played with these toys. Now they are tried and tested companions through good times and bad. I like to think that old toys like the ones pictured here (available at the wonderful Topsy Design) have magical powers to soothe, comfort and inspire.
This amazing series of underwater photos by Phil Shaw just made my day. Click here to see lots more, and to read more about these wonderful water babies. Via Automatism.
This morning I discovered the most amazing Flickr photostream full of mama-goddess, birth-beauty, belly gorgeousness: Photographer Christy Scherrer's work just moves me to my core! Check it out, here. 
I am dying over this yummy, limited-edition, cashmere tartan sling! At The Little Sling Company, in London. Via Sakura Bloom.
Photo originally for Vanity Fair, by Tim Walker, here. How adorable is Alber Elbaz, peeking out from behind those divine little watermelon-hued dresses he designed? This week I posted this and many other visual delights on my new blog, The Bean and The Bear. Visit, why don't you?
While Brent called our family and prepared the last items for our hospital bag, I went to work baking peanut butter cookies for the nurses in labor and delivery. He put on an old Wilson Pickett album and as music filled the house, I tried to steady my emotions. We had done so much, worked so hard, dreamed of this day and it was finally here. My contractions begin to get stronger and I was hit with a wave of emotions. I went into Everly’s nursery, leaned my head against her crib and sobbed. I said a long prayer to God and asked him to watch over Everly and I in the coming hours. I called my best friend Natasha and said “This is it. It’s really happening, I’ll call you when she’s here”
By this time, Brent had called our doula, Lindsay who had made her way over from the East Bay. My contractions were strong, but manageable and I leaned against the kitchen counter, rocking to “Hey Jude” on the record player and trying to focus myself. It was important to me to labor in the comfort and quiet of our house as long as possible. As my contractions grew stronger and closer together, I used my hypnobabies cds to stay calm and centered. Brent and Lindsay massaged my back and hips as I breathed through them. It was about 6:30pm when I felt they were getting so intense that I couldn’t breathe through them in comfort any longer. We climbed in the car and made the 15 minute ride through the Castro and Noe Valley to St. Luke’s Hospital in the Mission. The car ride was miserable as I had to sit upright, wearing a seat belt as each contraction rolled through my body. More than anything, I just wanted to get there and get centered on the task that lay ahead of me.
It was 7:00pm by the time I had checked in, undressed, and gotten settled in the labor and delivery room. Brent wrapped his arms around me and we swayed back and forth as I worked through each contraction. It is hard to really understand what a contraction feels like until you are in the middle of one. It isn’t like menstrual cramps, it isn’t a head to toe ache – it’s a deep, intense, active pain that rolled from my lower belly and spread through my body. Every contraction had a steady increase in strength, a peak, and then a merciful end – giving me enough time to gather my breath and courage to prepare for the next one...
Ryan from Pacing the Panic Room recently started documenting a friend's pregnancy in a series of terrific photos and I love the concept: each week, mama-to-be, Tricia, is being photographed as she strolls around the neighborhood. One week at a time, the photos are threaded together on Ryan's blog and viewers can navigate them with the help of a horizontal scroll bar. The effect is that we see gorgeous Tricia moving through space and time, complete with an ever-expanding bump. Genius! Check it out, here. 
...and this one, sent in by Coralissa, that captures the fun of a Hawaiian beach snuggle shared by her husband and son...
Not to be outdone in the cuddly-cuteness department, those same three moms also sent gorgeous photos of themselves with their babies, and I have to say, they give those adorable dads a run for their money! Here are Corie, Coralissa, and Tanya, in that order:
