I'm Nearing Maximum Capacity

I'm slower, I'm meaner, I'm fatter, and doggone it, I'm surprisingly easy to amuse. I've learned a great deal about life during this pregnancy. For instance, did you know your boobs may need support when you sleep?

The Kush Support, used for a C cup or greater, is supposed to improve your comfort while you sleep. Now, I'm sorry, but I happen to have a bosom greater than a C (for now), and I cannot imagine sticking something so obscene looking between my boobs (while I sleep). I'm just waiting for SNL to do a skit on this insane device. And just for the record, what kind of woman wears something like this to bed? I'd venture to say it's not an autism mom...



So, between this, my neckline slimmer (which isn't working) and enormous maternity underwear, plus the fact that the stretch marks are a comin', there does exist a certain amount of hope that I could involuntarily send my husband into a permanent fetal position.

But what has bubbled up more than my heartburn and questionable choices in maternity items is the fear. I'm reaching the "terror" point of pregnancy. I have no idea what to do with two children (and let's not leave my husband out of this). Perhaps, once the baby is here, with enough rest and vodka, I mean relaxation, it will come to both of us...