I feel huge. Certifiably, undeniably, verifiably huge.
And yet lots of people have said how small and compact my bump is for 26 weeks. (27 tomorrow!)
It may be compact but it isn’t stationary. After a nervous couple of days where baby has been kicking, but quiet, today it’s in full flow and showing me more of the things it does and doesn’t like – for example, it doesn’t like me lying on my front, or me resting a laptop on the bump, as it tries to kick it off. It likes fizzy drinks and neapolitan ice cream, which make it wriggle and kick like crazy. It loves music but hates the tappity tap tap of me on my keyboard – as I’m typing this, it’s kicking me so hard I jump every time, and I’m all tensed up waiting for the next kick.
I hope no-one takes offense at me comparing myself to a manatee. It was just that I saw a picture of one last night and it was like looking in a mirror, save for the 4% of me that still looks vaguely human. For what it’s worth, I think they’re beautiful animals and I want one, I just never thought I’d be able to live with that amount of what feels like blubber weighing me down, or with people pointing and calling it a sea-cow (well, they haven’t called me a sea cow yet, but they haven’t seen me in my swimming costume).
Now I know that feeling.
Manatee – I feel ya.