holla to my B's who lent me these swell maternity clothes
Theoretically speaking, I'm halfway through my pregnancy, assuming the baby comes at exactly 40 weeks. No sooner, no later. Which of course means nothing to Snorkels, or Thrasher as I have now started calling it. I think I have experienced many of the joys of being pregnant at this point, such as being called fat by a young child, nightmares about zombie cows, and peeing at least half a dozen times throughout the night. Luckily, I have yet to have a stranger grope me without my permission. But by far, my favorite experience has been having Mitch feel the baby kick for the first time. I think he actually believes that I'm pregnant now, and that I'm not just making it up so he doesn't leave me for some motorcycle chick.
Also, for your listening pleasure, I'm adding a link to my pushing music. Every time you listen to these songs, I want you to imagine me pushing out a baby. Like, red-faced and squatting pushing. You're welcome.
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