Woah, Nelly...

I know I’m not “FAT” just “Pregnant” which is what everyone says to me when I start complaining about how big I have gotten. And even though I don’t look like it, I feel like the mother in “What’s Eating Gilbert Grape” and if the house started to burn down you may as well just keep me in it or rent a fork lift to attempt to get me out. At least that is how I’m feeling at this moment in time.

I think what adds to this is the fact that I’m almost the same weight as my husband. Usually, he has a good 35-45lbs on me but not at this moment. Only a mere 9lbs separates my weight from his. I didn’t realize this until he jumped on the scale this morning and he was happy with the number that appeared. I almost fainted slash cried seeing this. He has been really good throughout this pregnancy and has not gained any weight which I know some guys do. I have mixed emotions about this now. Originally I was proud of him and happy that he did not jump on the ice cream train as much as I did. However, it would be nice of him to gain maybe 5lbs so at least we are out of the same range!

Even though I have 4 weeks left to go and thought that I don’t have too much more weight to gain, my loving brother in law told me that this is just the beginning and I should expect my body to change drastically in the next 4 weeks. He did follow up by saying that I looked as though I was only 6 months pregnant currently but continued to tell me how my belly will drop even more within the next few weeks. Perfect. I didn’t feel like having shaved legs for the month of August anyway.

I know this will all be worth it in the end but I am so, so ready to be able to bend down without being winded and feeling as though the acid in my belly is about to shoot through my nose. A girl can dream cant she?