Thank you everyone for the encouraging, body-affirming messages of reassurance on my last annoying, whiny fat post. You support – plus a large piece of pie – has calmed me considerably and I plan to stop worrying for at least another 6 months. I will try to keep my future complaints in that department to a minimum, unless I have something funny to share. How’s this for funny – I got my first stretch mark today! I almost cried! Hilarious, right? Sorry.

Actually, I’ve been walking around all week saying “Don’t I look small for 24 weeks pregnant?” and “Really, I don’t think I’ll get huge at all!” Then God looked down on me and said “AHAHAHAHAHAHA!” I tried to take a picture this afternoon to show you how “small” I looked, but some crazy woman who swallowed a watermelon kept jumping in front of me. And I know this is really, really disturbing and in no way do I mean anything by it, but I looked up infant viability today and was pleased to discover that my baby currently has an 80% chance of survival were he to make his debut right now. You know, just in case he decided he didn’t want to ruin my body anymore and would rather come out here where he can annoy the crap out of both parents equally. Please don’t think I’m a terrible mother, I swear it’s just the crazy pregnancy hormones. I mean, I’ve started crying during episodes of  What Not To Wear, I don’t think rational is in my vocabulary any more.

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