Here is a LONG overdue picture of my ever-expanding mid-section. I am now 31 weeks along, which is crazy because people, that means I'm just two months away from being responsible for another human life. Don't worry though, I think I've got it. Though I've never kept a plant alive, my cat has survived a number of years with only a minor tail amputation...
And since babies don't have tails...
She should make out fine.
I joke, I joke.
Seriously though, two months away from meeting the little rascal who's been dancing inside my belly is pretty exciting.
As you can see, I'm now most certainly at the point in my pregnancy where my stomach is never mistaken for a beer gut, so that's kind of nice.
Last month I passed a huge milestone that was well, difficult to swallow even though I knew it was coming. What milestone you ask? The "I now weigh more than my husband milestone." Not many women can claim that one now can they? And even though I knew it was coming -- for heavens sake, I am an inch taller than the man -- it was still hard to accept. For some reason, that one particular pound was psychologically heavier than all the rest.
Speaking of pounds, I've now gained about 25 on behalf of our little lady. I'm not complaining so much as stating for the record that it's exhausting carrying 25 more pounds than you ever have. Between the extra weight and the protruding belly, I pretty much schlep to and fro now. Next month, shlep will be waddle. You can go ahead and quote me on that :)
