Seven More Weeks

Baby Bagel is getting larger (much, much larger, it feels like!) and is running out of room. He's hanging so low that he feels like he's about to fall off my front like a ripe fruit off a tree. He's pretty quiet while I'm up and walking around, but I can't do much of that any more, and whenever I sit down or lay down, he kicks up a rumpus. The most vicious are the kicks to my bladder that send me running to the restroom.

Seven more weeks... five if I'm lucky...

This is the point in the pregnancy in which I advise all women loudly to just adopt children. There are plenty of kids out there that need caring for, that won't kick you in the bladder.