So, my original idea was to wear the striped tank for all my belly shots, but I just couldn't go on. Since last week marked the advent of my first belly cleavage, I decided it was time to switch to a maternity tank. I don't think any subsequent photos with bare belly hanging out were going to be cute.
I would like to make a quick note about my tank in today's pic: this is an Old Navy maternity built-in bra tank. As you may be able to see, DON'T BUY ONE. I don't know any pregnant women who can actually go bra-less, and this tank is cut so skimpy around the top that you can see my bra and strap all around the arm hole - ridiculous. I can't go out of the house in it without another layer. Plus there is some weird ruching in the shelf bra that is uncomfortable against your skin if you do wear it braless (like I do to bed sometimes).
Anyway - I'm 25 weeks. Nothing too exciting about that except that every week that goes by is another week of lung and brain development for my little man.
I had a fun moment yesterday with baby while I was sitting at the computer. He was kicking the front of my belly, so I poked back in that spot. He kicked. I poked. Kick kick. Poke poke. And then we went at the same time and I felt something there, I'm pretty sure a foot by the size of it. Sure enough, I read on my pregnancy updates that at 25 weeks the baby can respond to your touch and interact with you - so cool.
But this baby is trying to sabotage me. My glucose test is in one more week and my craving for sweets is still off the charts. Mr. Ibis and I went out for breakfast this morning and I devoured a Belgian waffle with blueberry sauce and whipped cream, which is something I never even liked before. I was drooling over every item on the menu that sounded like it had sugar in it - pecan muffins, cinnamon bagels. I even had a brief passing fancy to put sugar in my decaf coffee, another thing I never do. I long for cookies and pastries of all kinds with a kind of lustful craving that is probably the closest thing to a sexual urge I've felt in six months. All at a time when I should most be watching my sugar intake. Stop torturing me, baby!
When I'm not thinking about chocolate I'm thinking about money, but I'm trying to fight that obsession as much as the pastry obsession. It's not healthy either. I get stressed out thinking about how I need maternity sweaters, a teeth cleaning for the dog, Christmas presents, and then daycare and what if we don't get any more baby gifts and have to buy all that stuff ourselves oh my god. I know part of this is reality sinking in, but I'm really hoping part of it is hormonal panic that will pass if I just push it to the back of my mind with the chocolate fudge brownie fantasies.
I still have energy and can get around fine, but I know the clock is ticking down on my ability to work, so I'm hoping more jobs will come in in the next few weeks so I can stockpile a little more cash while I still can. After that I might have to start posing for pregnant nudie pictures and sell them on the internet or something. I don't know.
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