This one is a complete and utter ramble. I don't know how to corral it into cohesiveness.
But I have pictures!
Week 18, according to one website, the little dude is the size of a boneless chicken breast. According to another, he's a bell pepper.
The boneless chicken breast both amuses and grosses me out more.
This was the week that colleagues I am not super close to started saying, "Hey! You look pregnant!"
And I would think, "Yes, and I'm nurturing a boneless chicken breast!"
I kind of love that my belly is all obviously sticking out now. And as soon as I eat or drink anything, it sticks out more. Some moments, I look veryvery preg.
Betty has been out of town since mid-February, and when I see her this weekend, she will be shocked. I reported that my boobs had hit a C. She was astounded.
In my family, we have the big strong thighs with which our Viking ancestors marauded and conquered - and then in later years traversed the North Dakota prairie. The boobs, we have not so much of.
She called the other day from the dressing room of a consignment shop. She was trying on maternity clothes for me, but she had no idea what size. Her friend, in the background, suggested I measure my thighs.
"Sweetie, you want to measure your thighs?"
Um, no. No fucking way. No.
What kind of question is that?
I was at the OB on Tuesday, and I asked the nurse to just not tell me what my weight was. She wasn't at all surprised. I bet a lot of people do this.
It's not that I'm fighting it - by no stretch of the imagination; I just don't want to know.
In that same visit, the doctor said I can keep up with the running until I simply can't. I am wondering when the "simply can't" moment will hit.
And here's a tarted up picture. It's far from my favorite picture of myself, but I feel like it shows the preg pretty well.
I had to choose between a picture with a better face that also featured the hottie hot boots, and this one, which shows the pregnanty bits more.
This seemed more useful.
And the boots! I must note, I had to lean waaaaaay back in a chair and put my legs up on the desk for five or so minutes so that I could zip them over my calves at the end of the day.
This is another thing about pregnancy that's kind of weird. My size from tummy down changes dramatically from the time I get up in the morning to the time I nearly plod into bed at night.
My friend Wendy likened pregnancy to a science experiment, and I have to absolutely agree.
And thus ends my stream-of-consciousness preg update for the week.
Happy weekend to all! Even though the cocksucking cold is back!