12 weeks and counting

It’s hard to tell at this point whether I’m getting larger because I’ve been too tired to really work out the last 8 weeks or whether there are actual pregnancy changes starting.  It could also be my new compulsion for all things starch, sprinkled with a dash of Chik-Fil-A.  More likely, it’s a combination of all of those factors.  At any rate, I thought it was time to start photo documenting before things get too far advanced.

I’d like to have at the end of this process, a little flip book of the belly growth.  For consistency sake,  I wanted to pick an outfit that I thought I had any chance in hell of fitting into through August.  Judging by the rapid pace at which I am outgrowing my wardrobe, that was going to take some doing.  I’ve systematically gone through my 20 year collection of jeans.  I now have one sole pair that when buttoned don’t feel like they are cutting me in two.  I don’t know when I was expecting this to happen, but it wasn’t this soon.

So, today, I begrudgingly went to target to get a belly band and some bigger pants.  Sigh.  I had heard about the belly band from friends who were already moms.  It’s basically this big, cloth band that fits around your belly and waist band so that you can keep your pants unzipped without exposing yourself.  I was skeptical until I got home and tried it on.  Good Gravy, this things is awesome.  And, speaking of gravy, even after I’m no longer pregnant, I think I might keep this thing on hand for holiday dinners.  What a simple, yet fantastic idea.  I’m wondering how long it takes for Ryan to catch on before he wants a belly band of his own.  If it’s ever missing, I’m going straight to his closet to look for it.

So, after I got home from this Target trip, I was sitting at my desk working when suddenly I felt liberated.  It quickly occurred to me that my bra, in protest against its new-found workload, had just gone on strike.  I guess I’m going back to Target for new bras tomorrow.  Fantastic.

While my size is expanding, I have felt fantastic (for the most part) this week.  Out of the blue, early last week I noticed I was suddenly feeling much less exhausted.  For the previous 8 weeks, most attempts to workout were thwarted by my inability to keep my eyes open.  Lately, though, I feel my energy returning.  This is such a welcome relief.  I’ve actually gotten some great workouts in in the last 5 days.  I biked an hour on Saturday, ran 9 miles on Sunday, took Monday and Tuesday off because work was crazy, another 6 mile run on Wed and an hour bike and lift today.  It’s progress.

As of now, I’m still aiming to try to run Boston in April.  I’ve committed to training for the next 3 weeks and then to assess how I’m feeling.  If it’s too much, I’ll bag it.  I’ve got nothing to prove, but I also don’t want to give myself an easy out when I am physically capable of running an easy marathon.  I’ve got my midwife’s seal of approval.  If I don’t end up doing Boston, I want it to be because I physically am feeling like it’s too much, not because mentally I just don’t feel like it.  That’s not a good enough reason in my mind, even when you’re pregnant.  Can’t train this kid to be a quitter already, can I?

12 weeks on 2/7/12

(It has occurred to me that this is how my dad might discover that I have a tattoo.  You can’t yell at a pregnant lady can you?  Here I am expecting my own child and I’m going to be waiting for a call from my dad to yell at me.  Seriously?)



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