So, imagine this. You find out you are pregnant . . . shock, awe, disbelief, panic, exuberant joy, paranoia, all day sickness. You know, the works. Then, you get sick at the smell of just about everything--food, people, standing water (the absolute worst in smell in the entire world). And lost lots of weight fast because you throw up. And then, you continue to throw up for 6 weeks after everyone said you would stop. And then you finally get your appetite back, and food tastes good. And then you feel the little Cleatus moving around inside of you (BTW, it feels very strange, sometimes like you are really hungry, sometimes like you are nervous or excited, sometimes like a little gerbil doing acrobatics in a bowl of jello, you know, the usual stuff). And then you start to eat. And eat. And eat. And that weight you lost is back, and then some. Enough to grow a giant Santa Belly. Except instead of sugar cookies and spice, its a little, tiny, fast growing fetus. If this was you, then your belly might look like this . . .
This is the chronicle of my journey as a vessel for the miracle of life. Though I have been vehemently trying to avoid all pictures, I know myself well enough to know that I will regret it if I don't document this amazing journey. So, here is a peek into my life as a grow my own set of porn start boobs, cry during cooking shows, throw up everything I eat, forget pretty much everything and develop a sense of smell better than a blood hound. Beware, this will be the unedited version. . .