So I’m almost there…. and I’d be convinced I was giving birth to a traffic cone/small bear if I hadn’t seen that ultrasound.

Other than waking up unable to breathe right, pins and needles in my hands, and the sensation that my hips have been glued into some sort of cro-magnon position, I sleep fine!

No, sleep isn’t coming that easy, but it’s worth it, just to feel that small elbow, knee, foot. The sensation makes me almost weep with happiness.

And while it’s true that the things happening or not happening in the washroom are becoming more relevant than things that happen or don’t happen in the bedroom….I don’t really care!

I fantasize about nursery colors, rocking chairs and the importance of zoo animals….

Standing is like holding a small microwave. Sitting is like Jabba the hut. Lying down is like being under a bowling ball.

I’ve mastered this facial expression: Give-me-that-seat-cant’-you-see-how-fucking-pregnant-I-am.

The word MuuMuu comes to mind when considering what  to wear….

I used to be civilized. Nowadays, whimpering, farting, sighing, and grunting, are all fair game….Pant removal is the second best part of my day. Bra removal is the first.

Not. Much. Longer. Right? Promise?

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