Holy cow.

I used to think not having a full-length mirror in my house was a blessing.

I was wrong.

a 32 week pregnant belly-- how cute!
The last time I saw myself in a full length mirror, I was 32 weeks pregnant and, although very "beachball-esque", I looked pregnant.  Somehow Rizzle had stretched the fat rolls to make them appear round and hard.  It was wonderful as I spent all 38 weeks of my son's pregnancy just looking fatter.

And now?  Oh boy.  What a difference 7 weeks makes.

The wind was blowing hard enough to give Winnie the Pooh's blustery day a run for its money today, so I ran into the bathroom at my OB's to check my hair before my appointment.  Everything would've been fine if I'd just stayed facing forward. But I turned.  How the hell did I go from looking pregnant to looking like a cow with big saggy udders in not even two months?  This last trimester has not been so kind to the plus sized preggo.  I am lumpy, I am saggy, I make the Pillsbury Dough Boy look like Kate Moss.  I told Daddy Drax I have my work cut out for me post-baby, 80 situps a day if need be.  His response?  "You can have a baby holding each foot!"  Oh how I love my mohawked man.

But disgusting body image aside,  I had a good 39 week visit.  Rizzle is head down in position, I am 4cm dilated and beginning to thin out.  I am only gaining 1lb a week, my blood pressure is great, no spilling protein, and Rizzle is performing like a champ during our NSTs.  So now I sit and wait for my water to break, or for contractions to overtake my abdomen.  Her little nook is nearly complete, everyone's bags are packed next to the car seats sitting by the door, sewing projects are being cut and pinned.  We've been busy bees.

And now, we wait.


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