burnie.

I am now 18 weeks pregnant.

Me, almost 5 months pregnant. That sounds so strange to me. It really seems like yesterday, I saw that shocked look on Josie's face when I showed him that really faded second line (followed by 13 more very bright lines). Meanwhile, I was thinking that my eyes were obviously playing tricks on me.

I feel like this pregnancy has been a joy up to this point...I know that labor is hard, and it will just get harder from this point on. Try not to rain on my parade.

I feel like we have a one-up on men. We get to grow something that will turn into a baby. And then a child. And then an adult. My mind still hasn't quite wrapped around that fact. And really, I get emotional every time I think about it. My husband can't do that. He can't grow a baby...that means we are special. (but he would probably say he is the special one because he gets to miss out on all the labor stuff). 

And I still think its crazy that I have a tiny tee-tee in my belly. He is a baby (un-named) boy and he has a tee-tee. Ha!

Let's talk about the bump. It is growing. I haven't stepped on a scale in awhile, but I'm sure I've never seen this number. And there is more to come. In my scrubs, I can almost get away with not being pregnant. They are just baggy enough that I can pass as a non-preggie. But when I get into my street clothes, BAM! There he blows. And I am either obviously pregnant, or obviously very intoxicated from the 18 pack beer-buffalo wing combo I just consumed. So picture me next week, on the beach, in my 2 piece. Yeah, you heard right, I'm rocking a bikini. No tankini for this girl. And next to me will be my brother's girlfriend, who is incredibly skinny and cute. Hopefully no one will think I'm her 18-pack drinking mom. Ha!

Sorry for this very random post. I have no other thoughts right now.