A good friend encouraged me to be loud and proud to be myself, not one of these frustratingly dainty little pregnant people who look totally like themselves, except with a volleyball under their shirts. So, in the spirit of self-acceptance, I present to you this photo of myself, taken last night by my 5-year-old daughter (which is why it's angled up considerably, perhaps heightening the effect?), looking more like someone who's gained 50 pounds over the course of the experience and was a little overweight to start with:
Yes, I have six more weeks to go (in theory). No, I'm not sure how it's possible to get MUCH bigger, but I have every confidence that a way will be found. Supposedly, the baby weighs about four pounds now. Since Lizzy was 8 pounds, 2 ounces ... oh my. Yes. A ways to go.
The good news is, from the vanity perspective: The ever-increasing belly minimizes the also ever-increasing thighs, upper arms, double chin, etc. ... There's some work to be done here after that baby arrives. We have big plans to have located and procured a Wii Fit by then.