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Week thirteen

What a wacky week to be in utero. Or hell, out of utero. We went to three days and nights of loud and crazy concerts, lived through near-nonstop rain and what could end up being historic flooding, watched the Grizzlies steamroll the Thunder in game one of round two of the playoffs, and heard the news that Osama bin Laden took one to the head.

Last week I could still suck my gut in, even though wearing pants was getting to be uncomfortable. This week the bulge is unmistakable and I can’t suck that sucker in anymore. Ashley generously let me borrow her Bellaband, which has made wearing pants much less tortuous, since instead of buttoning them, I can cinch them closed with a hair band. Going to the bathroom presents a unique challenge now. I repeat this mantra: “DO NOT DROP THE RUBBER BAND IN THE TOILET. DO NOT DROP THE RUBBER BAND.” So far so good.

I have my first stretch mark. The string of expletives that flew out of my mouth when I discovered it shall not be reprinted here.

My balance is starting to get all out of whack. I suppose my center of gravity is shifting, and I can certainly tell when I stand up or even when I lean one way without thinking about it a little bit.

The baby this week should be getting up to either the size of a peach or the size of a medium shrimp, depending on what publication you read. Thinking of big nasty sea bugs being anywhere near me makes me barfy, so let’s go with a sweet little peach, complete with a fine coating of fuzz (lanugo, they call it). The little guy or gal is in there moving around and pissing to his or her heart’s content, as beautiful and disgusting as that sounds. I can’t quite feel any of that yet, though. The organ-punching is still to come.

We’ve got a big weekend coming up. Ray’s graduating from law school and his family is coming to stay for a few days. I have never actually met his mom or dad, so I’m excited to finally see where he came from. I think my mom’s coming down too. It should be a hoot.

2 thoughts on “Week thirteen”

  1. Um, you may not be doing the band right. I used an “ouchless” hair elastic. Looped around itself through the hole and then over the button to fasten. Never came off, even in the wash. Or maybe you need a better rubberband!

  2. Now I am confuzzled. I take the rubber band off the pants button/loop when I take my pants off to pee. Otherwise my jeans ain’t getting down over these hips.

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