Oh I know, I know, I’ve been a bad little blogger.  How can I get you guys all worked up about the day in’s and day out’s of my uterus and then leave you hanging for a few weeks?  It’s downright mean, I know.

So if you’re on uterus-watch, then this picture should appease all you crazy bump-watchers out there.

Here I am at 19 weeks.

Voila!  We have belly, folks!

I find it so funny to look back at pictures from week 12 and 13 and think about what a freak-a-zoid I was and just how huge I thought my little tum-tum was back then.  And then I look at this picture and realize…whoa.  Where did this gut come from?  I’ve lived with it every single day and I have no idea when it all of a sudden went from week 12 to week 19, a.k.a. me complaining about slightly tight waisted jeans to “oh man, one more button down and next comes the zipper.”

Not in maternity jeans yet, damnit.  I am holding strong in avoiding them at all costs, but it’s starting to reach that point.  Woe is the girl who has to wear pleats and elastic-banded waists.

We find out the sex of the baby on Friday, but of course you already have that marked on your calendars.  Because, duh.  Of course you do.  (My calendar has hearts and squiggly lines all of over it and I had to stop myself from drawing a cute little sperm character on my calendar at work because even I have professional boundaries.  Hard to believe, but it’s true.)  This is all coming from the girl who didn’t want to find out the sex, I know.  But now that we’re embracing it, we’re truly embracing it.  And it’ll be like Christmas morning when I wake up Friday.

So I’ll write again after Friday and let you all know if it’s a Fox or a Marlowe all up in this uterus-joint.

(Didn’t think I’d say uterus again in this blog post, did you?)

Uterus.

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