But don't take my word for it!
This first group of photos was taken on Friday before work (don't worry, Halley. The black top is just underneath the fleece sweater. I'd hate to ruin the illusion that it is the only maternity top that I own):
This second group was taken before my shower on Sunday:
And, no. That isn't a maternity dress. I've had it for several years and it is just made out of an exceptionally forgiving material that allows my eight months preggo belly and size F knockers to (somehow) squeeze inside.
In other news, one of the members of the janitorial staff at the museum stopped, stared at me and asked if I was expecting today. Granted, she sees me several times a week, so it isn't quite the same as a stranger walking up to me at the grocery store and asking when I am due. But it IS the closest I have gotten to it so far.
On the plus side, I haven't had a single stranger touch my belly. I think it is just because they aren't sure if I am pregnant or just fat.
On the down side, I don't get any sympathy either. Especially when I am pathetically winded going up flights of stairs. People around me just think I am out of shape. They don't realize I have a kiddo pushing on my lungs because he thinks it is hilarious.
The bizarre high of an (almost but not really) stranger asking if I was pregnant was quickly shattered, however, when my intern from last fall stopped by to volunteer this morning and had absolutely no idea I was pregnant. She just thought I had gained a few pounds since she last saw me.
Speaking of which, I've actually gained 25. Which is depressing. The doctor insists I am right on target, though, so I am trying to keep my chin up. Even if my husband thinks I look like a fat, old man.
(No, Trev. I have no plans on letting THAT one go anytime soon!)
I AM starting to get really tired, though. Maybe it is just because I had a long weekend. Or maybe being at the tail end of this whole pregnancy thing is starting to wear on me. Either way, I feel like I am spending an exceptional amount of time every day wishing I could go home and take a nap.
And then my trainer got on me because I only burned 700 calories at the gym this evening (I've been averaging 1,000 to 1,500 a workout). I just can't win. Although, I WANT to burn more calories because I've been craving sweets lately like you wouldn't believe. Seriously. When I'm not thinking about napping, I'm envisioning tootsie rolls, chocolate covered almonds and vanilla petit fours. This can't be good for my (ever expanding) waist line.
This whole pregnancy thing isn't for suckers. Just FYI.