Can’t. Breathe. …

As time goes on life with the belly is getting more and more uncomfortable. They say that as it’s growing it’s smushing my diaphram into my lungs … this is an understatment. Not only is it SMUSHING my diaphram INTO my LUNGS, literally, it’s KICKING it too! So I have the added pressure and feeling anxious about breathing – check. But I also have the random, and very frequent JAB in the diaphram.

It’s like getting the wind knocked out of you – except I haven’t fallen off the monkey bars. And what man invented the underwire maternity bra? Who thought it would be a good idea to put even MORE pressure on the diaphram. I mean, why not, really … it’s just the comfort of BREATHING!

They forgot to inform this genious that the belly keeps getting bigger, which in most cases means moving upward, outward and all over-ward … the boobs are in the way and anything on the boobs stays in the way no matter whats moving or growing.

Simply put, I’m in that uncomfortable stage – sleeping in 4 hour stretches at night is a good nights sleep and if I’m lucky I’ll get comfortable enough on the couch at some point during the day to dose for at most an hour and a half, if I’m that lucky.

And you know you’re pregnant when you’re frequenting the public restroom on an outing and after awhile you don’t even notice the fact that you’re sighing in relief when that sweet relief finally comes and the patrons on either side of you start to snicker. And I don’t even care.

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