And Speaking of No Shame....
Be honest... Do I look fat in this?
Rest assured I do not leave the house in this get-up. Too much. The sight of my frighteningly taut stomach flesh, not to mention the monstrosity that is my tummy button--it could very easily scare small children. (I generously spared you a picture of my tummy button, more as a gesture to my fellah, who finds it just too disturbing to contemplate).
One thing that scares me about these pictures is that I have still have 4 weeks to go, and no fricking CLUE where I'm going to put it. I am someone who (despite having ample hippage) carries all "up front." And somehow I managing to put on a couple of pounds (plus) a week right now. When this was brought to my attention at last doctor's visit, I mumbled something about "did not take off my boots when nurse weighed me..."
But I know better.
My stomach is about a quarter of its normal size, and yet, I am managing to pack it away like there's no tomorrow. Even better, while I am in the process of packing it away I mumble to my husband between mouthfuls "I really should stop eating large meals like this. I feel full already. I should stop. I should eat smaller meals. I keep getting heartburn." (shovel. shovel. shovel. "are you going to eat that?")
And then, later that evening, I lay like a beached whale on the sofa whinging about heartburn and letting off burps that would make an adolescent boy blush. "Oooooh. My chest. Oooooh. BUUUUUURP. That feels better. BUUUUURP. Ah, yes. Much better. Hey, love? Is there any of that Chubby Hubby left? Can you get me a bowl? There's a love. I really can't get up. Really" (makes feeble gesture to show how "getting up" is physically impossible). "I need the calcium. Really."
He's a good man, my fellah. He even put my socks on this morning. (You've seen nothing more pathetic than me trying to put my socks/hose on right now. It involves much hopping around and whining on my part).
So. 4 weeks to go from today. Maybe.