Flashback: T-Minus 1 week.


LOW RIDER {originally published October 1, 2009}

Normally, I like to keep my belly self-portraits confined to the belly, but this week, in hopes that it will be the last picture I take, I thought I should record myself in all of my swollen glory – my engorged nose and sausage fingers are providing plenty of fuel for my raging body dysmorphia, even as I do my best to ignore the tree trunks that have swallowed my legs.    And although it may look like I stuffed a watermelon under my shirt, that is actually just a really really low riding baby.   Look at her.    Is it any wonder my pelvis feels like it’s splitting in two after having been beaten mercilessly with one of those spikey-balls on a chain things that were all the rage in medieval torture chambers?

Also – people (mainly random strangers) really need to stop asking me if I’m “sure it’s not twins.”   It happens pretty much every day now.   Even though I’m pretty certain this is one of those stupid default things people say to pregnant women when they’re trying to be cute,  I’m keeping track and I’ll be stabbing each and every one of those motherfuckers in my dreams tonight.

How far along? 38 weeks.
Total weight gain/loss: Shut up.
Stretch marks? My knees and ankles are getting stretch marks from the sheer pressure of the edema.   SUCKS.
Sleep: Awful.   Just effing awful.
Best moment this week: The great hair color debacle of ’09 is finally over.   I’m blond again just in time to match my blond baby.   At least I hope she’s blond, or I’m probably getting divorced.
Movement: Like an adorable little alien.
Food cravings: I just love all food.   Milkshakes.   Cheeseburgers.   Blueberries.   If it’s food, I crave it.
Gender: Girl.
Labor Signs: Not enough.
Belly Button in or out? In.
What I miss: Walking like I didn’t just ride cross-country on a horse.   The waddle is just humiliating.
What I am looking forward to: Meeting my baby.   C’mon little girl.    Let’s do this.
Weekly Wisdom: The stranger touching and space invading only increases as I get less comfortable and more cranky.   Dangerous combination.
Milestones: I think the next big milestone will be squeezing a human out of my lady bits.   If there’s one I’m forgetting, don’t remind me.

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