If a pregnant woman falls in the forest and no one is around to see it, does she still look cute, in a beached-whale sort of way?

So I bought a lot of cute maternity clothes this pregnancy, and I realized the other day that practically no one has seen them. Except for, you know, Steve, who appreciates them, and Corin, who does not. The same goes for the cashiers at Safeway and the customer service staff at Home Depot who try to help me find "you know, that thingy you can screw into screws that are stripped?" We have a couple friends we see regularly, and a few more we see occasionally, and that's that. We visited Steve's family when I was in that stage where I knew I was showing but no one else really seemed to notice, and my family's not going to see me the whole nine months. It makes me wonder if spending the money on adorableness was really the wisest choice. I was lately contemplating getting a real haircut — as in, not by Steve — but decided looking fabulous just on the delight it gives me in passing by stray shop-window reflections probably does not make it the best investment at this point.

Last pregnancy, I was attending a church, and we had community groups going on, so every week a group of people got to see the ever-enlarging expanse of Amanda belly and muse aloud on what might be happening below the surface. It was fun, all that attention. Subsequent pregnancies are different in many respects, I suppose, but I feel like this one is sort of passing by without remark — that the baby will be here before I've fully experienced the moment of baby-not-here-yet.

And, once you've got the newborn, all attention is off you. I remember what a rude shock that was — no one telling me anymore I was cute, or huge, or anything at all — it was all on that baby. That scene-stealing baby. Silly Corin. (I mean, come on — I poop; I cry; I have fat rolls and funny-looking cowlicks. What does he have on me?)

To make up for the lack of in-person observations to appreciate my expanded girth and my expanded wardrobe, I've taken to documenting myself photographically as often as I think of it. Since I can't wait for Steve to volunteer, I end up doing the mirror-shot thing most weeks.

So I get fabulous pictures like this.

And this.
All this to say, if you want a glimpse of the ever-changing landscape that is my torso, let me know. I'll send you a picture.

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