We’re at 25 weeks. That’s a lot of weeks. Baby is growing strong and kicking in weird and new places every day! She now has control over the majority of the abdomen area and has claimed it as her own.
The weekly “OMG — You’re not going to believe WTF is going to happen this week!” emails I get from baby websites said that I might expect to have little Tot, who weighs in around 2 pounds and is 13 inches long — to stretch her little legs up in a way that might cause her foot to get lodged between my ribs!
To a first-time preggers, that sounds crazy.
In other body news, my dear co-workers have been gracious enough to put up with me complaining about feeling pressure — like someone is hoping to use my skin as a suit and is slowly inflating me in an uncomfortable manner. I feel very taut all of the time, which makes me nervous, because I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to be having complaints like that until month eight or nine. Exhibit 5,630 of how this petite crap is going to bite me in the ass.
Ah, well. It rubs the lotion on its skin or else it gets the hose again.
I like having a tummy. It’s everything I hoped it would be.
Still no strangers have asked to rub the belly. I feel like I’m the only woman who would welcome that, and therefore will never be asked.
15 weeks and counting until we have a REAL LIVE BABY. Isn’t that nutty bernaners?
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