Yesterday we paused on the way out of Mass to say hi to Father because Oscar had brought a rosary to be blessed. Fr. D_____ blessed the rosary and then looked up at me with a smile and asked "How soon?"
It always takes me a minute to figure that out before I remember that I’m really, really obviously pregnant. "Oh, um, I’ve got three months left, actually."
Genuine shock. "No! No way!"
Here’s me in the bathroom mirror, today, at 27
weeks:
I Googled images of "27 weeks" to see how typical I am, since I feel really, really huge. Look for yourself — there’s an amazing range, really.
This woman, for example, is actually made of plastic. (Warning: Normal, non-plastic people should not click here, and should not read the part where she writes about how she’s got to do some "serious sit-ups" because she’s still 10 pounds over her pre-pregnancy weight, which is apparently 43 lbs., at 7 weeks postpartum. But her baby’s cute, to give her credit.)
All joking aside, I’m not actually worried about my pregnancy weight gain, even though it’s on the high side by the numbers. This is the third time, and both previous pregnancies I gained more than fifty pounds and made it back to the pre-pregnancy weight by the time baby was four or five months old. So I’m assuming this is okay for me.
bearing blog 