I'm 29 weeks pregnant. Same as 20 or 24, just bigger. Although last month, according to Dr. Skinny & Cute, I only gained 3 pounds- I would have to imagine it breaks down to +12 pounds water weight that gives my face, hands and feet distinct and oh-so-sexy Shrek-like features, +2 pounds in body hair, -5 pounds in lost brain matter (and therefore function), -3 pounds in unexplained tears, -5 pounds in continued spewing, and -3 pounds in lack of make-up or many other forms of standard up-keep.
I could bitch and moan some more, although I am enjoying all her movements and getting excited about seeing her, and DYING to buy her stuff.
I could bitch and moan about moving while pregnant, although everyone is doing their best to help and be generous and I am incredibly lucky in a million trillion ways.
I could bitch and moan about loss of sleep or general discomfort, but what the hell did I think I was signing up for? Plus, I recognize that this would be wildly insensitive to those who have REAL trouble with pregnancy.
So, for today's break I just did an artist's (the artist being yours truly) rendition of what I sometimes imagine is inside of me. And if it isn't totally clear by the picture...I do very much love this kid already.
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