I am officially huge. Inappropriately huge. There is nothing left in the western hemisphere that fits me huge. I am officially in seclusion until this baby gets here so if you don't see me for a while, just count yourself one of the lucky ones. My wedding ring doesn't fit and the only clothing I can wear are a pair of Adidas athletic sandals and a mu-mu. Not a very attractive mental image, I know.
I just feel the need to tell you that I promise I have been healthier this time around. I exercise daily and consistently blot the grease from my pizza. Shouldn't this count for something? Apparently not. Emotionally, I can not handle one more comment from an approaching stranger about how I look like I am about to pop. So, I told Andy yesterday that I am through going out in public unless absolutely necessary. And by necessary I mean if we are out of ice cream - ha.
OK, this post is pitiful, I will stop now.
1 comment:
Last summer, right before Arden was born, I put on a pair of maternity shorts and a tank top and ran some errands. I was thinking I looked pretty cute until I caught a glimpse of myself in a store window--and saw about three inches of exposed belly.
I feel your pain.
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