We are now in the SINGLE DIGITS in the countdown to Hannah time! Holy smokes. When I think about the time I have left with my womb-mate, I can't tell if it seems long or short. In terms of weeks (single digits!), it seems short. But, when I think about it in terms of months (2 more, eek!), it seems lengthy.
Here's what I currently look like in my yellow tank top:
Here's what I currently feel like in my yellow tank top:
Today's unnecessary pregnancy remark tally is actually relatively low quantity-wise, but one comment made up for that in quality.
- Size (i.e. "You're huge/large/big!"): 2 comments
- Multiple babies (i.e. "How are the twins?"): 0 comments
- Early birthing (i.e. "There's no way you're making it to the due date!"): 0 comments
- Co-worker getting off the elevator, spotting me, and loudly shouting "Hey, here comes the FAT lady!": 1 comment
Fortunately, I'm in good spirits today, so despite the small lecture I gave him about how women - regardless of their impregnation status - never want to be referred to as "fat," I emotionally recovered quickly. The good spirits may be related to the fact that my sweet and wise husband responded to my pregnancy gripes yesterday with flowers, a card, ice cream, and a movie rental...he's good, he's very good.