Diary of a Real Pregnancy: Week 10 - Still Starving, And Letting the Secret Out (a Little)

Perhaps this week you're feeling a little more confident about telling your news to a few people... perhaps not. If you do decide to tell, it's fun to think of a unique and memorable way to share the news. Something more fun than, say, blurting it out while the other person is mid-sentance about something totally unrelated because you JUST CAN'T HOLD IT IN ANY LONGER. Not that I know anyone who would do that. *cough* These things are then followed by "You can't tell anyone!". I'm kind-of assuming everyone at the office knows now, one way or another, but they're not suppoed to know so they aren't saying anything to me, just looking sideways at my belly when they think I'm not looking. Or am I just being paranoid?

For me, since I still don't have any REAL proof that this pregnancy is REAL (other than the fact that I'm getting fatter and my boobs are still getting bigger), telling is hard. Though knowing that this is very likely our last pregnancy, it's kindof fun to keep the secret in as long as I can... I like walking around thinking, "I know something you don't know!". Unless as I said they DO know and I'm the one not in the know. This is confusing. That happens a lot lately. Where was I?

Ah yes, there's the whole getting fat thing. I'm thinking it's a good idea to make sure people at work, neighbours etc see me eating junk all the time, so they will just think I'm letting myself go. Hehe. Is that just a blatant excuse to eat junk food? I plead the 5th (or whatever the Canadian equivalent is). I'm assuming in a couple of weeks when the real reason I'm getting fat comes to light, they're going to be all "Is that why you've been pigging out?" or "I thought you were looking a little hefty!".

Pants are getting tighter again, after the very brief reprieve from bloating last week. Oh, no this is the real thing. The main problem is I'm not just getting a little pooch... I'm getting bigger everywhere. I like to think it's a slower metabolism, and not a sudden and insatiable affection for junk food that's to blame. Whatever -- it means I can't comfortably button up my pants (again) and so am walking around the office either stuffed into pants that are cutting off the circulation to the lower half of my body (that's got to be healthy), or walking around with them undone which is just a recipe for disaster.

Until next week, if you need me you can find me at the salad bar. I mean chocolate bar. What?? I'm still choking down taking my prenatal vitamins, so I'm covered nutritionally... right?

Previous: Week 9: Starving, and Stuffed
Next: Week 11: The Miracle of Maternity Pants