According to my latest OBappointment, I'm two weeks farther along than I have been telling everyone. The due date isn't any different than originally stated, I have just apparently been working in words long enough now that I have lost the ability to do math. Nice knowing you, multiplication. We had some good times. (Womp.)
So while I've been going around announcing that I am 20 weeks, I am, in fact, sporting an actual 22-week belly. This is kind of a relief, because great googly moogly, my burgeoning midsection is a wonder. I'm starting to get The Look from people whom Iknow well enough to see every once in awhile but who may not be my friend on Facebook, say, or who know my parents. And then there's this awkward pause in conversation, where they're deciding whether or not to say something potentially horrible and insulting and I'm trying to figure out why they're looking at me with that face. Ishould probably carry a sign, or wear a badge. “BELLYDUETOPREGNANCY.” Although, at this point, I feel like the sign/badge should also include a “DUH.”
When bellies attack!
I'm a bit bigger than Iwas at this point in my pregnancy with Rosie, and for sure rockin' a larger girth than my 22-weeks-pregnant-with-Noah self was. It makes me feel wary of the (rapidly approaching) third trimester. The Waddle has already appeared, especially when I've been on my feet for most of the day, I've started to give dropped items the middle finger, and I've rekindled my love-hate relationship with Pillow, my prenatal bedmate.
Snuggle buddy, overbearing nuisance
The truth is, it's time to pay attention to ye olde body more than I have been. Meaning, Ineed to get moving and shaking. Or at least get in a few namastes every once in a while. Because I have a feeling that's going to make a huge difference in my outlook on life come March, April and especially May. Idoubt my body will feel less creaky and vast if Ijust will it to do so with my mind. Although, Iwon't lie, I'm probably going to try a whole lot of that first.
So, I guess you could say I've made a quasi-semi-sort of New Year's Resolution:Conquer the belly, lest the belly conquer me. I'm going to start off by doing a nice deep lunge towards that bag of peanut butter M&Ms over there on the counter.