I'd like to think of myself as the cute-pregnant type. However, it is getting harder and harder to feel that way these days. I think I can attribute that to mainly one thing.
It does very little for the ego when one occasionally has to back out of the garage and pull back in one more time. Why is this? Oh, I will tell you. It is because no amount of twisting or squeezing can get this belly out of the van if the door isn't able to almost fully open.
A favorite question of Big Sister's has become this. "Is your belly going to fit out of the van?" She asks with a giggle.
I can only honestly answer, "I don't know, let me check."
Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. At least the situation is immensely amusing my daughter and of course, my husband.
I, on the other hand, must choose to laugh with them, because really what other choice is there, but to cry?
Fortunately, we will eventually meet this baby, which will at least cause my belly to become mushy so that it will squeeze through tight spots when I need it to do so. It is either that, start parking in the cold, icy driveway, or become a contortionist. I'm going with having the baby.