With our vacation looming and my belly expanding I ran into some trouble when pre-packing. Namely, nothing fits. Well, nothing in the light, comfortable pant category. What's a girl to do?
Now a word about my fear of maternity stores. Not fear necessarily - more anxiety. Do I look pregnant enough? Will the workers be the pushy Art Van type or the somebody help me now Forever 21 type? Will everything look humongo on me? But, when I popped the button on my North Face cargos I knew it was time to push aside the anxiety. With a Somerset gift card c/o Grandma Katie, off I went to Destination Maternity. (But the name? Really?)
And honestly, it was fine. My belly was just the right size. The workers were an Art Van/Forever 21 hybrid. And I looked no more humongo than I look every day. I tried on a dozen pair of pants and left with two. One for working out. One for hanging out. Granted, the belly band is a bit much on the hanging outs.
And I did feel like a total corndog armed with my GIANT Destination Maternity bag for the rest of the night.
But the gift bag, filled with pamphlets and coupons for Huggies, a breast pump, JC Penny Portraits, Train at Home to be a Medical Specialist course, March of Dimes, ViaCord cordblood bank, Braun thermometer, Graco carseats and . . . wait for it . . . two single-serving prune samples . . . made it all worth it.
And for the peanut gallery... Yes, I still shop at Forever 21 (+11).
With Betty Roo (a.k.a. Breclaw Emergency Broadcast System) on the street with baby news, I knew it wouldn't be long before word got 'round about me gettin' rounder.
As the number of discreet facebook messages began increasing exponentially, I decided to circumvent the errant Wall Post and make this pregnancy facebookficial. Today, with some apprehension, I changed my profile pic to one of those hideous "Baby on Board" suction signs.
Though Kip and Owen have endured countless lectures on the virtues of sharing, we obviously have a ways to go. (Of course, "dad" using one as a pillow doesn't really say tough love.)
After this was taken, Owen assured me he was just warming up my side of the bed as a Valentine's Day gift. Thanks, Owen.
Unfortunately for Will, I am pregnant. And at times do ask him to pick up ice cream (interchangeable with pizza, gummy bears or mojo potatoes from Holden's Party Store). And, now, at times, when he forgets, I do threaten to divorce him. (In all truthfulness though, that man would NEVER forget ice cream. The rest of it, yes. Ice cream, NEVER.) But not today - our last Valentine's Day as a duo. I know that I am one lucky lady, ice cream or no ice cream, to have such a kind, intelligent, supportive and silly partner. Our greatest adventure lies ahead (and around my increasing girth) and I cannot wait to embark on it with Will.
One of the many symptoms of this pregnancy is my new tendency to weep. To well up and spill over. Not really blubber, just tears down the cheeks weep. I couldn't control it Monday while watching the laundromat scene toward the beginning of The Blind Side. And this Nissan Leaf commercial had me weeping at Red Dog Saloon. Pass the tissues, please.
Baby Spurgeon is 100 days old today. I'm 14 weeks and 2 days pregnant. The first photo doesn't do justice to how big my stomach feels. Vanity reigns - must have been sucking it in - and I think I look better so I made it the primary shot. ;) But check out the smaller shot. Same day. Same time.
I think my Chicago eating extravaganza forced it out. The whole drive home I felt twinges in my lower abdomen. Quite uncomfortable! My Super Bowl Packer cheering took place flat on my back - alleviating the discomfort. Monday morning, I had to go to Target and buy a belly band - so I could unbutton my pants and still keep them up.
With our vacation looming and my belly expanding I ran into some trouble when pre-packing. Namely, nothing fits. Well, nothing in the light, comfortable pant category. What's a girl to do?
And honestly, it was fine. My belly was just the right size. The workers were an Art Van/Forever 21 hybrid. And I looked no more humongo than I look every day. I tried on a dozen pair of pants and left with two. One for working out. One for hanging out. Granted, the belly band is a bit much on the hanging outs.
And I did feel like a total corndog armed with my GIANT Destination Maternity bag for the rest of the night.
But the gift bag, filled with pamphlets and coupons for Huggies, a breast pump, JC Penny Portraits, Train at Home to be a Medical Specialist course, March of Dimes, ViaCord cordblood bank, Braun thermometer, Graco carseats and . . . wait for it . . . two single-serving prune samples . . . made it all worth it.
