So, here’s what I know for sure these days:
Truth: Strangers look upon me with pity.
Or shock.
Truth: My stretch marks weren’t even kind enough to appear in a symmetrical pattern or in matching places. One hip bears a light pink lightening bolt, the other remains untouched (for now).
Truth: My feet are so swollen that they hurt to bend. 
And I can’t find my ankles.
And now even my flip flops leave marks on my feet.
Truth: All of my lady lumps rest on top of each other.
Oh yeah, let your imagination run wild with that one.
Truth: I asked my husband if he was ready for the baby to get here and he said, “I’m really excited to see him and for you to get back to normal.” I replied, “you mean physically?” and there was a long pause followed by a very unsure sounding “yeeeeeah.”
Truth: I want to nest, do a million more projects and vaccume everything, but then I think about how wonderful a nap sounds and decide that I really should leave my mom some projects to do around here while she’s visiting for a month. Sorry, mom.
Truth: I only have two items of clothing that really fit anymore.
I wear the rest anyway.
Truth: I can no longer twist enough to make sure that I won’t smash into another car trying to pull out of a parking spot at the same time that I am. At this point, I just go for it, hoping a fender bender will inspire my doctor to induce me. 
Truth: I wake myself up with my own snoring.
A lot. 
Truth: I feel like a science experiement. 
Truth: I would commit murder to have a cold Corona Light with a lime.
Truth: I eat whatever I want, whenever I want because the all you can eat buffet is quickly shutting down around my house sized self.
Truth: When this baby comes, I will love him forever, but with a cocktail and turkey sandwich in hand. 

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