As promised, here is the next round of photos documenting "the great growing belly." I actually promised beer belly photos in week 16, but I'm lazy and therefore you are instead getting an eyeful of my "Whoa -- where the heck did that come from??" genuine baby bump belly from week 18. And as an added benefit you get Dexter, our six month old mutt who isn't quite sure why he is posing for a picture, but is pretty damn sure he looks cuter than the tubby woman who puts food in his bowl every day.
Here he is again, looking at me and thinking "Lay off the Kibble lady..."Actually, I've decided it is kind of fun to have enough of a belly to feel a little pregnant -- makes it more real and makes my complaints seem more valid, i.e. My back hurts (see my huge belly I'm carrying around?? There is a reason my back hurts) Wicked heartburn? Yep, its all because of THIS (gesture to expanding waistline).
I am still sort of sensitive about it though. Take last night for example. I ran into an old co-worker from a past job, someone I hadn't seen for nearly two years. We were in an ice cream shop (stereotypical, I know. Prego lady craves ice cream) and he was there with his young son. As soon as my co-worker saw me, he jumped up and gave me a big hug and we starting catching up. But... what did he say for the first five minutes of our conversation? I have NO IDEA because all I could think about was how to bring up that I was pregnant because I didn't want him going back to work on Wednesday and telling all our co-workers that I had "let myself go... gained a lot of weight... had acne like a pre-teen..." THE HORROR!!
So finally, a break in the conversation and he asked me how I was. And, with none of the grace of a true PR professional (or just the grace of a NORMAL PERSON), I screeched "I'm having ONE OF THOSE!!!" (gesturing wildly at his son who now has ice cream from the tip of his nose all the way down his neck) I felt like I had no control over myself. It wasn't normal. I didn't say, "Oh, I'm great. Work is good, actually -- fun news, we are having a baby" like I'd practiced in my head. Nope, I pointed out the man's son like he was a pastry in a delicatessen, "Yes, and I'd like one of THOSE for dessert please" as I smacked my lips and basically mumbled "MMMMMM, baby" like some crazy lady.
Yikes. Social grace is apparently one of the things to go when you get pregnant.
Luckily the man's son interrupted soon after and I got to escape back outside to where Ben was waiting with the dogs, where I literally head slapped myself and promised that when we got home I would spend the evening practicing my announcement techniques until I got it right, or at least until I didn't find it embarrassing to be around myself in public anymore.