in other news, I'm still daydreaming about bacon cheeseburgers

I have nothing else to write about these days other than baby and pregnancy things. That's just how it is! Unless you want to hear about my thoughts on the most recent episode of Friends I watched (I require both a chick and a duck as pets) or how I accidentally overdosed on ricotta cheese (I can no longer make eye contact with it). So there we are. Things, they've changed. 

I always used to wonder what it felt like to be pregnant. It looked massively uncomfortable to me, but I couldn't wrap my head around what it would actually feel like. If you've ever wondered too, let me help: surgically implant a bowling ball in your abdomen, making sure it's nestled right on top of your bladder but has easy access to your rib cage. Next, light your sciatic nerve on fire. If you don't ever get heartburn, go ahead and pour acid down your throat every 5 minutes or so. It's so fun!

The past several days have given me the first few inklings of GET THIS THING OUT OF ME. Except don't get this thing out of me just yet, because I'm not ready. But please do, because top-heavy has an entirely new meaning.

My face resembles a blow fish and my hindquarters are the size of Ikea. 

My ankles occasionally have the audacity to turn into cankles. 

We won't mention the trials and tribulations of my digestive system. 

My fingers are sausages. 

I still crave the smell of rubber and all car smells, and I'm now finding a deep, satisfying, and profound joy in chewing crushed ice cubes. 

My hair grows a foot a week and I have to trim my nails every 48 hours. My chickens have large talons. 

Having to bend over to pick something up is grounds for crying. If I drop something, it's dead to me. 

My purse is heavy not because I'm carrying books, but because I have an industrial sized container of Tums in there. 

My body generates so much heat lately that it could heat the entire Empire State Building during a polar vortex. 

You can tell me I'm huge all day long and I won't care, but point out my waddle to me and I'll cry in the bathroom.

If it requires more than 30 seconds of standing, I'm not doing it.

I often feel like a newborn in that all I want/am able to do is eat, sleep, cry, repeat. Thankfully I can at least change my own diaper. Not that I wear one, but it would be helpful right now. 

My cup runneth over with new food aversions every day. 

On the other hand, my nose can hunt down Chipotle barbacoa within a 30 mile radius. 

Depth perception is an issue. Cooking over the stove has become dangerous. Doing the dishes is just another form of taking a shower. 

But this is still the best and most awesome thing ever. 

And this has been another episode of Life at 34 Weeks Pregnant: brought to you by raspberry chocolate chip gelato and dry heaving.


  1. i love how you still say its the best thing ever :)

  2. You are hilarious. You could truly make a book about pregnancy from all your posts about it, I'm serious.

  3. Do the chickens have large talons?! Bahahaha you are my favourite.

  4. I was the same way! Tell me I'm huge, I don't care! It's was the truth, but the moment someone (usually my husband) brought up thewaddle... It was over man. Lol

  5. True story: It took me 15 min to put my boots on this morning. I walked into the office and my co-worker asked me what was wrong. I responded "Oh, I'm just pregnant"


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