Yesterday was 24 weeks. 24 weeks. 16 more to go until 40. The funny thing is that when you’re first pregnant, the time can’t go fast enough. And I’m pretty sure it’s because you’re puking and you’re not eating, and you can’t imagine ANYTHING worse than not being able to eat. So you wish away the time. In fact, you start reading AHEAD in all your pregnancy books; you wish away the first three months for better days to come.
Except, better days don’t come.
Instead! You can’t eat ENOUGH! And the aches and pains you thought you had when your fetus was a mere peanut inside you? Well. You ain’t felt nothing yet, sister. And the feelings of, “will this ever be over?” turn into, “DON’T COME YET! I’M NOT READY!!!” And the panic you first felt when you found out you were finally pregnant and would your body keep it in, morphs into panic on how much IS it going to hurt when it finally comes out?
Father’s Day was an exciting venture for us this year. I had Belly Boudior pictures taken for the Handsome Husband- the only thing I could really think of that I could ONLY give him now. A one time only offer. I was really pleased how they came out, and I put together a coffee table book of them for him. I also put together a few for my dad- emphasis on the "belly" and less on the "boudior" part.
I'll spare the racy ones for a private moment.