Still here, still pregnant. Apparently I am not schooled in the ancient art of patience. But the more time I have, the gorier I end up imagining birth will be. Perhaps this is nature's way of taking all of the fear away; I find myself so annoyed that I would be willing to take a can opener and get down to business on my own.
Well, I'm not that annoyed. Yet. Plus being hugely pregnant has its advantages, like the guy at the car shop replacing our burned out headlight for free.
I am wondering, however, what this belly of mine will look like when it loses all that is keeping is taut and non-squishy. I fear a deflated balloon might be a close bet. Maybe it'll hang down to my knees, then all I have to worry about is covering up my ass.
2 comments:
Seriously. Are you holding that kid in to try and have the New Year's baby?
Hells no.
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