After playing in the water for a while, we went back up on the beach to reapply sunscreen. Porgie was looking exceptionally adorable.
She enjoyed crawling in the sand.
I kept yelling for her, but she continued crawling.
We went back down to the water, but decided to walk out into the ocean this time. John was carrying Porgie, but she kept reaching for me and whining. I ended up carrying her, which was not a wise plan.
Guess what happens when a 15 week pregnant woman is carrying a 25 pound baby and trying to avoid crashing waves? A wave knocked me down onto my knees. I struggled to catch my balance, but more waves kept hitting me. I fell into the water. Porgie fell with me. Very traumatic. VERY TRAUMATIC.
Porgie and I were both a little shaken up. She cried, and I apologized profusely. Walking back onto the beach, John noticed that my knee was bleeding. I had scrapped it on the broken seashells in the sand.
John refers to this episode as "the incident." I think he was pretty shaken up too.