And Covered in Acetate Lace

I have some miraculous news.

I have only gained nine pounds!

Sixteen weeks and nine pounds! This is so unlike me!

To tell you the truth, I went to the doctor’s office with some trepidation in my heart because I’ve been feeling pretty great these days. Energetic and cheerful! I think I felt that way for maybe thirty minutes of my whole pregnancy with Shef, so I was certain that these good feelings were an extraordinarily bad omen.

But my doctor tells me everything is actually totally fine. The fetus is growing and definitely has heartbeat. Plus, I feel good.

And the weight! I’m euphoric about the weight!

I called my sister to tell her the excellent news, but she was less than enthused.

“But it’s so funny when you get all bloated and fat,” she whined.

I told her, don’t worry. There’s still plenty of time to turn this thing around.

After all, I am gunning for a ten-pounder this time around. 9.14 was close, but I’d really rather start the description of the child with double digits.