Taking Inventory

January 8, 2010

Nearly 20 weeks into the pregnancy, I can make the following observations:

1. I no longer believe that heartburn plagues only middle-aged men who drink too much beer and eat too much pizza.

2. I will not be one of those adorable pregnant women who remains tiny but merely looks like she’s swallowed a basketball (this was, perhaps, too much to hope for – I have not been remotely tiny since November of 1973, when I emerged into the world at a relatively diminutive 7 lbs). I think my pregnancy will be more of a “clear the decks; she’s coming through!” sort – which is fine, as I’d hate to inadvertently trample pets or small children.

3. My belly button is doing this odd thing where it’s not trying to pop out, but rather creep in and upwards. It’s disconcerting. I don’t know where the hell it thinks it’s going.

4. I am getting one of those weird dark vertical lines under my belly button. I’ve started to think of it as the Prime Meridian (which would make my belly button the Royal Observatory in Greenwich, assuming it’s unsuccessful in its attempts to relocate north).


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