the jellyball family blog

I got bitten in the BELLY by a mosquito!!!

There is no end to a mother's job protecting her little meatball.

I've been feeling "really big" for months now. And yet, every time I upload a new belly pic, I realize that I really wasn't that big before... not like I am right NOW, anyway.

I suppose it's all relative! Can't wait to see myself three months from now. I'll look back at week 27.5 and think I was thin in comparison.

I can't remember where my body used to bend when I bent over, but these days, I bend right under my boobs. Yesterday evening I felt so big that I started realizing why it is that pregnant women can't reach their feet to lace up shoes. Lately when I put on running shoes, it becomes this ordeal that involves my rolling up into a ball and finishes with my being completely out of breath.

AND! I'm not even that big yet! Whoa boy.

The other day after we had a poutine, the baby was doing cartwheels all night. Similarly, last night Luc was watching the weekend's big UFC event (for those who don't follow it - Ultimate Fighting Championship - a bunch of half naked guys fighting in an octogon-shaped cage), the baby appeared to be cheering from inside the womb.

This ain't no scientific experiment, but at least we know the baby has inherited our genes. :-) Never mind that this probably means I'll be giving birth to a beer guzzling, UFC-watching, poutine-eating Meatball.

My current maternity wardrobe consists of 3 tank tops, 4 blouses, 2 long sleeved t-shirts, 3 t-shirts, and 4 pairs of pants. I'm wearing just about all the permutations, because, well - do the math - it don't go too far.

The other day I thought to myself - "Self, what's a maternity shirt other than it's longer and a little wider?" And why should I be gauged by a maternity clothing store when I could just buy a LONGER t-shirt?

This is how logic works in my brain, you see. So out I go to my favourite pre-pregnancy store, remembering that I used to try on t-shirts there and think they were a little on the long side.

Staring at myself in the changing room mirror, I realized that the shirt was in fact, long enough, it simply wasn't built to accommodate the belly of pregnant woman. Or anyone slightly overweight, for that matter. It simply makes one look very, very fat.

"Did it fit?" says the anorexic changing room attendant.

"No," I said, trying my best to cover my belly.

And out I went with my tail between my legs. So much for cheating the system.

I was pouting away at my desk when a girlfriend - a few weeks behind me in her pregnancy - read my mind and sent me an instant message that said "Maternity clothes are ugly!" And great story about a borrowed maternity bathing suit her husband didn't recognize because it was the "size of a house".

Misery loves company. I feel better now.

As a kid, I remember having plenty of pairs of pants with elastic bands. Now that I'm wearing pants with elastic bands, I keep thinking - why don't they make more pants like this? For non-pregnant people?

Seriously, zippers and buttons? Totally overrated.

No, really. Think about it... you have a great big meal and you're thinking you should have worn sweat pants. No problem! You're wearing your elastic-waistband jeans. You're totally covered.

Is anyone else feelin' me here?

This morning I was in a doctor's office for a non-baby related appointment when I spotted a scale in the corner. I promptly jumped on the scale and started moving the big, black markers while watching the needle rock back and forth.

I was curious to see how much I've gained because I feel bigger, but the inaccurate scale at home suggests I haven't gained much. Turns out I've only put on a couple of pounds.

It sure feels like a lot more.

I can't believe it's 2:35pm, I just finished my lunch at 1pm and I'm HUNGRY already? This can't be happening.

This week my appetite has been all over the place. There are days when I don't feel like eating anything, though I'm actually hungry. It's the food itself that turns me off.

Last night, when faced with a banana and ice cream crepe, my appetite seemed just fine. I imagine I would be similarly OK if I were faced with a beautiful McDonald's quarter pounder with cheese, and some of those delicious, trans-fat soaked french fries.

What's the MATTER with me?

Last week, I came home to find that my wonderful husband had not only cleaned the entire apartment, but had shelled a bowl full of pistachios for me. If that isn't love, I don't know what is.

You hear about pregnant ladies having the strangest cravings - pickles, ice cream, pickles with ice cream, etc.

So far I haven't craved any sweets - in fact, I probably crave them even less than I did before I was pregnant. I have, however, developed a huge appetite for anything carby and salty. I'm constantly thinking about chips. Last week I was dreaming about Goldfish (the cheesy crackers, not the actual fish).

And in looking in the mirror today, I'm wondering if it's possible that I've actually gotten wider instead of growing belly-first?