Week Seven

Dear Button,

You are:

  • Growing, growing again and growing some more. By rights you should have started this week at 4 or 5mm long and reached an amazing half an inch by the end.
  • Now in the possession of a two-chambered heart, air passages in the lungs and cerebral hemispheres in the brains. So you could be smarter than me already.
  • Also in the possession of an appendix which is pretty amazing until you remember that its also somewhat redundant because we don’t use them anymore.

I am:

  • Still missing the poop. Just so as you know.
  • Experiencing breast pain.

So, if I wanted an encouraging sign that you were going to stick around for the long haul, I appear to have gotten it this week. Because oh my God, my BOOBS. ARE. SORE. Like I woke up one morning and it was hello chest! Not like I all of a sudden have a set of DD’s or anything like that because I don’t. They haven’t doubled in size overnight but I can’t help wondering if this is what it might feel like to get a boob job. I now seem to keep running into them when I never did before, in the shower, whilst getting changed…every time I turn around, they’re just there. Yes, I am well aware that they are attached so they can’t possibly not be there but I have never thought much about them previously and now I can’t help but notice them.

Now they’re uber sensitive and I’m all DON’T. TOUCH. THEM. Which for pretty much the entire world population is not ever going to be an issue but it just so happened that this week, Sparky chose a morning to do something he has never actually done before. He decided it would be an awesome idea to poke both of his index fingers into my chest…and I nearly bit his head off. Not quite the reaction he was expecting. That’s what you get however for messing with a pregnant lady. I can honestly put my hand on my heart though and say that this was actually the position I assumed whilst walking down stairs because it greatly minimised the related jarring movement in my bust. That movement was painful. Underwire was painful. Undressing wasn’t that much fun either.

Alles Liebe,



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s