Stay Puft Marshmellow (wo)Man

Suddenly my shoes don't fit. My rings are tight. Wearing jeans is unbearable torture.

I'm fat and swollen and periodically catch myself waddling.

I'm the Stay Puft Marshmellow Man.

Thinking (longingly) back to the last pregnancy when I was (mis) diagnosed (in my opinion) with pre-eclampsia and was put on moderate bed rest the last month.

At the time I thought it was wildly inconvenient and annoying. In retrospect, it meant I could wear my Lululemon Be Still pants every-single-day without worry.

I may start working on faking high blood pressure to raise the red flags. Kind of like finishing a marathon with roller skates on but at this point, does it really matter?

Seven weeks to go my friends...remind me of this when I'm complaining about my extreme fatigue in seven weeks and two days :)

No Glow Yo

I was never a 'pregnancy glow' gal the first time around. I think I have a max of three photos of my belly captured during those 10 months (showers aside), and I always shuddered when people suggested the popular expecting mom photo shoot. Just not my style.

But I don't recall being so frequently exasperated with my personal appearance either. Getting dressed in the morning would be a joke, if there were anything funny at all about it. Inevitably, each day starts with no less than five outfit changes before ultimately I give up and hope for the grace of God no one is out there looking to judge a hot, fat, pregnant lady today (and if you are, shame on you).

Hubby reassures me with comments like "no, you were way fatter with Ben at this point last time..." which sadly actually makes me feel slightly better, if that gives you a sense of my state of mind.

I've done a little looking around online and talking to folks, the results of which also made me feel better. The unanimous sentiment is women feel sicker, fatter, more tired, uglier, and overall like a hot mess the second time around.

Misery loves company. Check.

So what's the point here? Who really cares besides me? And isn't it all bigger than this? I hear you. But that doesn't make it any easier to put clothes on every day, and certainly doesn't help that once that challenge is tackled, I can't find my freakin' car keys either.

Week 26

Do you think it is possible that I have an abnormally heavy placenta?

I ask because I've suddenly gained a lot of weight and frankly am in denial that it could be something like my ASS that is carrying all this poundage.

Sadly I was the largest belly in my pilates class last night, with the other gals all due within a week of me. One of whom was having her second (she should be much bigger than me based on the books).

Ugh.

And I think my ankles are starting to swell. Isn't that supposed to happen in the 36th week? Not the 26th week? I'm still working out. Shouldn't I be protected from all of this nonsense?

If you haven't surmised, the "glow" has officially faded to black, which incidentally is all anyone is going to see me in between now and next spring.

Hubby assured me last night that even if I do continue to grow at this rate and expand to three times this size when I deliver, that he will still recognize (and presumably love) me. I'm not so sure.

And yes, I know. My vanity is shocking to me too.

I'm creating life, carrying a miracle, facilitating God's plan. And I am grateful. Extraordinarily grateful. I love the baby. I love his kicks (he kicked Stella in the head last night and she shot up off my lap wondering where the heck that came from, hilarious).

But I gotta tell you, it is going to be a long 14 weeks.