The fat is coming

How does one go from relatively slim with pants that fit to a large blob that is bursting at the seams of every pair of pants she wears? My jeans don't fit...at all. It hurts to button them. My work pants are narrowly passing the stand up and zipper test. My bet is that in three weeks I will be entirely without any pants to wear and looking very ridiculous pants-less on the street. This does not bode well for the rest of this pregnancy.

However, I have decided that I am not going to "do" numbers. By that I mean that when I get weighed at the doctor's office every few weeks, I am going to ask that they only tell me if it's too much or too little rather than the actual number. I've never weighed over a certain point in my life, and I will eclipse that and then some during this pregnancy. I need to be OK with that, and as long as I don't know the number I think I'll feel better about all the weight gain. I know it's what the baby needs for strong growth and development. If the baby wants Twizzlers, then damn it, the baby gets Twizzlers.

This whole experience is completely surreal. I've started reading the books, and staying away from the pregnancy message boards (I cannot even believe how uneducated the majority of America really is...jump on one of those message boards and see for yourself. Ridiculous.). I know I will start to feel "pregnant" and "maternal" once the baby starts making its presence known with a swift jab to my bladder or ribs, but in the meantime I just feel slow, lethargic, and chubby. And irritable. Did I mention that? Ask Tim...I am peach to live with right now.

The pregnancy brings up all manner of questions: Will I be a good parent? Will I be able to teach my son/daughter how to be a good person? Will Tim and I be patient? Will I be able to learn how to "parent" a child? Am I ready?

I suppose those are questions that get answered in time. I am fully prepared to fall madly in love with this child over the next 33 weeks, and when it arrives (after a peaceful labor with a lovely epidural delivered at just the right time...shut up, I can dream) I will fall even deeper into the baby love spell that washes over new parents. That round tummy, soft head, sweet breath infant love spell...it's positively dreamy.

P.S. According to the Chinese gender chart, we are having a BOY. Believe what you will but Tim, myself, and my mother all think boy too. We're taking bets up until we find out.