Glamour prego blogger Christine Coppa finally saw Knocked Up. And she so related! From the weight gain, to the positive pregnancy test.. everything was so exactly the same! And then there was that moment.

When Alison had the transvaginal ultrasound (really not a fun experience) and saw that tiny, sesame seed flickering. It reminded me when I saw my baby's heartbeat for the first time. The room was dim, the nurse was quiet and Jack and I met. I responded the same way she did—uncontrollable tears that weren't of sadness or happiness, but of something much larger and unexplainable. I felt strangely fulfilled, yet terrified—my connection to him was instant.

To which we can only post, not out of snarkiness or favorableness, but of something much larger and more unexplainable, which is: the absence of contempt for a Glamour blogger. How fulfilling yet terrifying!*

*To be sure there is cringe-worthy stuff in this post (being "published internationally", the second use of "listen up, girls") but dude: remember Alyssa? She was all about the parties, and Sundance, and publicists, and cardio, and "purification rituals", and living with her parents, and the fucking Hamptons. At 29 years old. This girl's about to be covered in baby diarrhea and she's three years younger but she will still probably be a better mother than Jane Pratt. So whatevs.


Date Night: Thank God I Have Hot Friends [Glamour]