Well, let me correct myself. I'm not actually complaining because I wouldn't change any of it even if I could. It's more like I'm telling you what is happening inside this little baby machine I got goin' on.
Oh my fucking hell I AM UNCOMFORTABLE.
ALREADY.
The other night, I was laying on my bed with my clothes all pulled off so nothing annoying was touching me and I was talking myself through it, telling myself I only have 6 weeks left. I can do this. I won't get too much bigger in only 6 weeks.
Then my math skillz came back to me and I realized I don't have 6 weeks left. DUH. I have 12 weeks left. Apparently my brain was not okay with this because it took me counting my weeks and the calendar like 8 times before I came to terms with the fact that I'm not going to be able to poop or breathe again for 12 more weeks. (But hopefully 10 because I'm thinking he's coming early. On April 2nd.)
So today I rolled into work in yoga pants, a tank top and a sweater. I've already shed the sweater because it's a thousand degrees in here. I'm pretty much farting every 8 seconds and right when I do, someone walks in my office to talk about something. I just shrug and say "I'm pregnant."
I'm so charming right now.
Love it. My mother makes fun of the fact that I have a couple high level degrees in math/science related fields, but I can't do simple addition or dial a phone.
ReplyDeleteLol, too funny!
ReplyDeleteWhat is with people's timing when pregnant women fart? I mean, I try to be discreet but am ALWAYS caught!
ReplyDelete