30 weeks pregnant. Ten more weeks until MY birthday.

I can’t help feeling like one big giant belly. I know I have some sexy bits somewhere. Will I see my waist again? I hope so, but I hear there’s no guarantee. My boobs, which looked so big 20 weeks ago and definitely haven’t gotten smaller, are being eclipsed by my belly. Although they’re enjoying having a shelf to rest on.

Captain comes home. I’m wearing pink velour pants, one of the three pairs of pants that  fit and an oversized sweatshirt. He tells me,

“You look beautiful.”

I tease him,

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Very… approachable.”