I have some now. Although I keep hearing “My goodness you don’t even look pregnant!”, somehow, I think these people are either (a) lying, (b) blind, or (c) trying to be nice. Regardless, I am one uncomfortable skinny person.
I am now sleeping with no less than four pillows – including the large, decorative pillow that you are not supposed to sleep on because they are too pretty for sleeping. This highly engineered sleeping apparatus is about the only way I can get through the night without a massive heartburn issue at 3:45 in the morning. It’s kinda like a large, elevated Great Wall of China effect.
Husband thinks it’s charming. Or sending a message. Or both.
It’s swimming season down in these parts, and Husband and I decided we’d take The Swimmy over to my folks’ house to swim this afternoon. So, in deference to the nearly 2 million soldiers who have given their lives for this country throughout history, I donned a maternity bathing suit. Actually, I donned a maternity bathing suit after not being able to “groom” certain lower personal areas because I cannot see them any more… and therefore they don’t exist.
Tres patriotic, no?
This got me thinking (which really is a complete waste of any energy I have right now). At some point, Dr. HandsomeGenius ObGyn is going to start up with the lovely internal exams again and I am going to have to stop going jungle. This is going to require a bikini wax. A well-timed bikini wax that will last for a visit or two and then others closer to the actual due date.
A pregnant bikini wax. This is not the kind of experience I’m lookin’ for right now.
“Hey, Wiggly – would you mind callin’ a cease and desist on your soccer game in there for a moment so that Mommy can bite down on this towel while this nice latin woman rips her hair out of her very sensitive parts?
Thanks. You’re a peach.”