Well friends. It's official: I'm pregnant.
The belly arrived like, well... like something that arrives ALL OF A SUDDEN.
I feel kicks and jabs and rolls throughout the day. Have been since about 16 weeks.
My clothes don't fit, and I lost my maternity clothes in the move. (So I of course had to go invest in some heavenly Lululemon pants, but was disheartened at the buzz created today by the CEO. And (I somewhat embarrassingly admit) my sinking heart was not so much about him blaming women's thighs for his own products' issues, but more so because I really was hoping to send Declan off to prom in these things. And I'm pretty sure he won't want his mom standing there in see-through 18 year-old leggings. So step-it up pants.)
Then I've got the usual: night bloats, a semi-incontrollable urge to pee, drought-like thirst, an unexplainably phlegmy throat, and a desire to rip my bra off by 7:00 every night.
And still... and still. With all of these tell-tale signs- not to mention the ultrasounds and positive pregnancy tests and hearing the little "whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh" heartbeat- I was in denial. So much so that the other day when some Braxton Hicks hit (a new and much earlier symptom than last time!) I caught myself thinking that I'd better get to a bathroom soon since Aunt Flo was about to arrive. Then, a little too slowly, I realized that noooo sirree. I'm in the joyous months of no periods because, well, you know... I'M WITH CHILD.
I've only had about 21 weeks for this knowledge to sink in and it might just take me about 19 more. But luckily for this cutie our house is already stocked with Declan's newborn essentials. Let's just say: thank goodness.
Five hundred bones right to our Old Navy pocketbook.
Thanks to everyone who voted! It was definitely a bright spot in a week of flooding and worrying that my investment pants might not last.
LIVE THE MURRAYED LIFE