This was last weekend. You know, when I was 8 weeks pregnant.
For accurate scale, please note that the bitch directly to my left is 22 weeks, and the slut two over is 30 weeks.
My mind can’t even begin to wrap itself around what I’m going to look like at 22 or 30 weeks. My uterus is going to resemble something in between the Trump Tower and Saturn.
My stomach muscles were never what one might call “acceptable”, or “not nauseating to look at” but at least they held strong until I was in the teen weeks of both previous pregnancies. Now they look like a forest that has been annihilated by a team of bulldozers. They have completely surrendered to what they know is the inevitable.
Welp… no use crying about that which I have no control. My pancakes are getting cold.