(Gracias for the congrats and mirth in response to our good news dear readers! You bring me such joy. Here’s hoping I bring you some right back) 🙂
One running joke in our house is that adding “-o” to any word lets any red blooded American like my husband easily speak my native tongue. This is the way in the movies. That, of course, and screaming.
I find the effect more amusing in the way it makes everything sound so pronounced. As such, the most-oft used foreign words ’round these parts this week would be gas-o and bloat-o because, no joke, this “belly” at just over 4 weeks is something out of this world indeed:
I have no “before” picture to show, but let me swear to you: that wasn’t there before.
A better joke now is how naive I seem to be about what pregnancy does to the human body, in particular what it’s doing to mine. Honestly, no one tells you about — well, let’s call it what it is — the farting. The one or two lines in the books mentioning flatulence don’t really do it justice, do they? ‘Cause I’m talking about better let one go or writhe miserably in pain. This spells the end of evening cereal bowls for me.
And well, I was prepared for a belly at, oh, 12+ weeks. But this is an I-swallowed-an-alien gut by all accounts already.
Sigh. Lucky girls talking about symptoms not starting ’til 6 weeks. 6 weeks my ass-o.