I am sitting in this noisy, noisy, hippy-dippy coffee shop trying to study.  I seem to study better at a table surrounded by excessive noise, and this place…well, this place really fits the bill. Plus, they have these sandwiches I woke up dreaming about*, so after 4 hours of thinking about the stupid sandwich, I finally got off my butt and came to get it.

(Prior to the sandwich, I dreamed I delivered this baby today.  At 23 weeks 6 days (scroll forward about 14 weeks – anything can happen in a dream), which is about a day short of official viability, and I was distraught about whether to provide him (it was a boy, don’t ask) medical care, and I was begging the doctors to please try to save him even though we were a day short.  This dream lasted about 6 hours.  It. was. hell.

The sandwich dream was SO appreciated.)

So anyway, yes, the hippy-dippy sandwich shop.

This morning I woke up to – after the sandwich dream, of course – a MASSIVE stomach.  Hello, pop!  I am in my 10th week, which is approximately 5 weeks earlier than I anticipated.  To say that I am dismayed is an understatement. On one hand, it is kind of nice to have a reminder (a beer gut, if you will) of the reason I am so miserable. On the OTHER HAND, I am trying to GET A JOB.  I really needed those 5-6 weeks of skinny-ness I thought I had!  (Plus, I eat like a teenage boy.  This is an expensive thing, this growing-a-human.  I just paid our bills this morning, and was amused to see that we spent money on…medical bills and Rachel’s food.  I have no idea what DB ate, because it wasn’t reflected in any of our statments.  Actually, I know what he eats:  pickles.  The man eats like a stereotypical pregnant person, and I eat like a stereotypical teenage boy.)

(You might think I am exaggerating.  Really, I am not.)

I tried to suck it in.  There is no sucking.  I think the fact that I am normally pretty small (like 5″2.5′ on a REALLY AMAZING DAY) and fairly petite (I mean, I yo-yo, but I am generally what one would consider underweight) means that my stomach has nowhere to go but…out.  Plus, all that food has gotta go somewhere, right?

So…what to do?  I am slightly panicked – if only the beer gut was a little less…firm.  And round.  It would be much more convincing as a beer gut that way.  I am wearing my biggest sweater today.  It is…well, let’s put it this way.  I went to pay for the sandwich, and the guy was like, “anything else?” and I said, “Coffee….1/3 caf, 2/3 decaf”, and he LOOKED AT MY BELLY.

If that is not telling, I do not know what is.

Anyone want to hire an adorable KU chiquita?!?

Yeah, I thought so.

*I know, I know, you are thinking, Rachel, you should have thought about that BEFORE you got KU.  I realize this.  But you must understand – we were told that it would be impossible for me to get pregnant.  We weren’t really thinking it would actually…you know, HAPPEN.


P.S.  Laura gave me an award!!  Which I am going to write about tomorrow.  I have never received a blog award, and I am really, really excited about it.  So stay tuned!  I am way pumped.