An actual quote from my Baby Update newsletter, in a message to partners of pregnant women:

“Understand, too, that as her pregnancy progresses, she may feel unattractive at times. Even if you think that she is, don’t let on. Tell her she’s beautiful.”

It’s our first day of birthing class, and all the women show up in sweatpants and T-shirts. I’m looking around thinking, really? We’ve all given up already?

Then the teacher says, “I know the handout mentioned that everyone should come in stretchy clothing, but we won’t be doing floor exercises until next week.”

Oh. The handout. Right.

My innie is finally a full-fledged outie, which kinda grosses me out. It’s killer sensitive and the skin is soft. People, the insides of your belly buttons are soft as the downy feathers of a baby chick! Of course, try to touch a newly hatched outie and you get an electric zing of discomfort. It’s similar to chewing tinfoil. But still. Soft!

In other pregnancy news, I’m starting to have No One Hurts This Baby dreams. In these dreams I have superhero baby-protection powers. I dreamt that terrorists tried to take me and Bryan hostage with hundreds of other people, and I knew I had to get out before they realized I was pregnant. I kee-yahed, and throat-punched, and clawed my way free. Then I sent Bryan a text message that said, “We’re safe. Get out.” And I waited for him at a coffee shop.

-Ow! You stepped on my foot. Again.
-Why do you even stay married to me?
-I don’t know… Oh yeah. I’m carrying your child. Your very heavy child.
-I haven’t even taken a single turn.
-Yeah! Bring me some ice cream.
-OK.

Today’s baby update email says “your belly may soon be big enough to announce to the world that you’re expecting.”

Soon? Soon?! Eat it, baby update. Strangers have been offering me seats and pointing out uneven spots on the floor for three weeks. Everyone is making twin jokes, which by the way are hilarious. Hilarious in a way that makes you cry and cry and cry.

Other things that are making me cry include:

- The Jetta commercial where the two guys crash and fly forward into the air bags. But then they’re OK! Just standing there all safe-like by the car! And honey, I just bought a Jetta. OK?
- The part in “I Hope You Dance” by Lee Ann Womack where she sings “DAAAAANCE! I hope you da-a-a-a-ance.”
- The Where the Hell is Matt video (via Andrea)
- The hotel shower gel that smells like the honeysuckle in my childhood backyard.