#11.
That moment when you realize that for the next several months, you're just going to have to settle for looking like an inflated, unkempt version of yourself.
I hope my husband really loves me...I mean, REALLY loves me. Because the sexy version of his wife may not be returning for quite some time.
I don't mind gaining weight in my belly; in fact, it's fun and cute to have a little baby bump. But I'm not one of those women who miraculously looks exactly the same as she did pre-pregnancy, save for her bump. Oh no. I am quickly developing chubby fingers, thick thighs, back fat, lovehandles, and a double chin.
I am too inflexible to make a decent attempt at shaving my legs.
My blonde highlights have grown out so that I am a brunette on the top half of my head and a blonde on the bottom. It's really an unflattering look.
My face is sprinkled with blemishes, and concealer is no match for my under-eye circles.
Thank goodness I have a notoriously gassy black lab to blame things on, because my indigestion and gas are the polar opposite of sexy.
I no longer fit into my regular jeans, and my maternity jeans make me feel like I'm wearing a saggy diaper, so I've taken to wearing sweatpants at all times.
Hey, at least I have these giant boobs. I think in my husband's mind, they make up for a lot.
