(This list is longer than the early days and the middle days due to the fact that my belly has taken on epic proportions in this final trimester. And I didn’t believe them when they said I wouldn’t believe just how big it can get…)
Wondering where my feet are.
Not looking forward to putting socks on.
Not remembering why I got up to go to the kitchen although conceivably I had a really good reason. I guess I’ll get a snack while I’m there…
Watching my belly literally take on a life of its own. Is he doing the wave in there?!
Feeling like a druggie with my little baggie of Tums. It’s easier than carrying around the 150-pack.
Knowing a belly growth spurt must be coming because of the fact that I’ve been craving (and eating) meat for 7 days straight. (Even more interesting considering I am a near-vegetarian.)
Noticing that the fronts of most of my shirts are starting to pill. That’s what you get from too much belly rubbing!
Going to look out the window and running into the glass with my belly.
When Roo gets the hiccups. And it rattles my bladder.
Hearing my tummy in its new location up under my rib cage when it rumbles.
Realizing how soft the skin inside my now popped-out belly button is.
Realizing that while I can still drive in a straight line, I can no longer park straight.
Being pregnancy drunk – an unexplainable silliness leading to singing to myself and random mental commentary on innocent bystanders. I swear I saw Lenny Kravitz pushing a stroller down the street!
Realizing that no matter how much I was hoping to resist the trend of my ever-growing hips, it’s time to put away the skinny jeans (and any other pants I used to fit in).
Running into things with my suddenly-there baby belly.
Having that same belly and the accompanying boobs intercepting and statically attracting any crumbs attempting to make it to the floor.
Hoping I don’t tinkle when I sneeze. (That’s what those pelvic floor exercises are for!)
Wondering if sneezing bothers the little guy.
Being forced into better posture by the belly.
Feeling self-conscious about the fact that the initial phase of baby belly looks like a college student’s beer gut.
Being winded after a single flight of stairs.
Realizing they have special seating for me in the trams and special parking spaces at the grocery store.
Being paranoid about the source of my cheese and any leftovers or open food products older than two days.
Craving no-nos like wine and gelato. Although I did later find out that some flavors of gelato are made without egg. Yeah!
Having absolutely no desire for my favorite latte macchiato. What?!
I have decided that I love my pregnant belly. Sure, it’s weird to not see my feet anymore unless I’m standing a certain way, to no longer fit into even my ‘fat jeans’, to not be able to balance on one foot very well anymore, to groan like a rudely awoken bear when I put on my socks, and to not know where the ends of my body are when I’m walking around corners and other objects (including Toby). But it’s so very nice to feel the little person moving inside of me. I love talking to him and stroking my belly, imagining that he can feel me through my skin and thinning abdominal muscles, wondering the whole time if he’ll get Toby’s long legs and thick hair, what color his eyes will be, what he thinks of me.