Beep Beep! Comin Through

It's official. I'm not small anymore. I never EVER thought of myself as a skinny girl. But with this new watermelon under my shirt, I long for the days I constantly felt "fat." I promise to the pregnancy gods that if they just restore my body to its previous state it was in prior to getting knocked up, I'll never curse again (Another thing I'm working on with McBaby's arrival coming in less than 4 months). I mean, I've been taking more Bar Method classes than I did in preparation for my wedding, so if that doesn't help the postpartum shrinking process, then I don't know what will.

The problem with gaining steadily in the weight department each week is that I honestly still have no idea how big I am. That is, until I knock into things with my stomach. The other day, I was able to accidentally keep the refridgerator door ajar with my protruding belly while stocking it with groceries without even meaning to.

I also got stuck in between two strangers' chairs at a restaurant the other night because I could have sworn I'd be able to squeeze in between them. Needless to say, it's a little embarrassing to ask not one, but two people to please scoot in because no matter how hard to suck in, you're not getting any smaller.

It's not like I'm massive or anything. I've gained around 12 pounds total, which isn't even that much considering I'm more than halfway there. But in my mind, I'm still my old size, which makes it all the more hard to admit to needing help off the couch, or assistance rolling over in bed (true story-happens multiple times a night). The other day I got down to demonstrate an ab routine for my Bar Method clients, and not only looked like I was actually giving birth while doing it, but let out a "heave ho" when getting back up, and proceeded to pant for the next minute straight. On another occasion I attempted to show the "perfect push-up" form, only to fall flat on my poor fetus during the failed demo.

Fact of the matter is, no matter how much I'd prefer to stay at the cute 20-week belly stage, it's come and gone, and I'm chugging closer and closer to the 40 mark, large and in charge. I made a promise to myself early on in my pregnancy that I would not waddle no matter how gigantic I got, and that I would not succumb to the comfort and convenience of a muumuu in my last weeks.

I may trash the Kardashian family on a regular basis, but Kourtney definitely knew what she was doing in the maternity style department. And I intend on trying for as long as I can fit...