A blog post I read recently (a horribly tragic story, if you feel inclined to follow the link) reminded me that I hadn’t bothered to back up my Critical Files in about six months.
And lo, the end of a year is a good time for doing that sort of thing. So tonight, I undertook the arduous task of copying and pasting My Documents to my external hard drive. Then, since I had to l walk away from the computer for 45 minutes while it whirred and groaned, I ate some cookies. To replenish my strength.
I’m nothing if not dedicated to my future child.
Unfortunately, all that dedication has lead to serious pound multiplication. As in – my clothes, they won’t stay put. My maternity shirts are not long enough to cover my swollen belly. My maternity jeans are not sturdy enough to hold themselves above my knees.
Which is why I start my day looking like this:
Which is The Intended Sassy Look.
And five minutes later, I look like this:
Which is great if you’re planning to answer the door of your trailer while the entire crew of COPS shouts for Cleatus to come out.
But not so great if you’re trying to look hip and fashionable while shopping the aisles of Target.
The routine of pulling up my pants every five minutes was really starting to drive me mad back in early December. It was then that I remembered a nifty new contraption invented for pregnant women called the Bella Band. Basically, it’s a large band of nylon and spandex (similar to a tube top) (a tube top that would fit Pamela Anderson) that you slip over the waistband of your pants to keep them from sliding down to your hips all the live-long day. (You can also use them earlier in the pregnancy to extend the life of your non-maternity wardrobe. No longer are pregnant women relegated to threading a rubber band through the button hole of their jeans.)
After
I now look like this:
Which isn't exactly what Victoria's Secret is looking for. But it makes me insanely happy.
Besides, covering up the slice of naked belly is practically a health hazard in Minnesota in December. Imagine -25 wind chill hitting that exposed flesh.
Yeah. I yelped too.
Thus, I’ve been able to finish out the remaining weeks of my pregnancy in a somewhat normal state. (As long as you consider it normal to look like you’ve swallowed an over-inflated beach ball.) It’s true that I go to the bathroom so often, I’m actually starting to look forward to the epidural-driven catheter. It’s also true that I have to wake up at night to turn over, so great is my girth. I also feel a bit like a super-strong trash bag, since the baby is compelled to push and poke and stretch my abdominal muscles on an hourly basis.
But generally speaking, I’m good. My due date isn’t for three more weeks, but I’m dilating a decent amount already. And since Connor, my last baby, was almost born in the car (there’s a post for another day), my doctor is most likely going to schedule an induction for me sometime next week. Which is why I find myself looking forward to 2008 with no small amount of excitement and expectation.
That belly – it houses someone pretty special.
And I can’t wait to meet her.
Now, if you’ll pardon me, I’m going to finish backing up my files. And then, I’ll probably grab a few more cookies. Because I’ve only got a few days left to have The Belly as an excuse.
Make hay while the sun shines. Or in my case, while the Bella Bands are still flexible. Whatever works.
