Week (almost) 13. Ok, 12.5.

I would like virtual high-fives from all of you for finishing the first tri-mester without ONCE calling my unborn child a nasty name. True, I flicked it on more than one occassion, but I don't constitute that as child abuse because I am ballooning and all of that padding has to prevent any type of movement from reaching the baby.

That being said. I look like I did when I was six months pregnant last time. What. The. Heck. It's certainly not because I am eating too much. Perhaps it's the combination of the baby and the week's worth of stockpiled poo that I have been holding on to. Awesome. But, hey, it's nice to see a little accomplishment I suppose. All this throwing up and whatnot can really dampen that 'growing new life' silliness that is going on inside me.

But, there is a horizon out there. I see it. It's way far away still, but I see it. There are more breaks in the day where I feel semi-human again, and I cherish those times. But then I eat something, or smell something, or see something on a commercial, and it all goes down the drain. But there is a light, people. There is a light.

On that note, I must go visit the toilet. I have some semi-digested cookies that are just aching to see the light of day again.