Droopy Drawers Diana has Left the Building

I have been watching my stomach expand at a steady rate now for weeks, caught between a smug and happy awareness of impending mommyhood and a sense of dread that the time was coming when someone would finally look at me and says "whoa!" or I would lose sight of my feet. Well now both signs of the demise of my waistline have come to pass in the space of 5 short days.

Incident Number 1: I saw a friend of mine last Friday after only a brief 2 week hiatus. She stopped dead and blurted out "Whoa!" (a la Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure) when she saw my belly. Even though I technically don't mind the whole getting bigger thing since it is for a good cause, I died a little inside. (le sigh)

Incident Number 2: Today, a coworker was inspired by another's, "Wow, someone sure looks pregnant today" comment to share something he heard from a pregnant friend. She was 8 months pregnant and decided a smoothie would be a great idea. She put the yogurt, berries and juice into the blender only to have it turn itself on before she put the lid on. After cleaning up the resulting mess, she went through the process again. More yogurt. More berries. More juice. And tonnes more splattering as the blender did the same thing yet again. Then she realized her belly was pressing on the blender's buttons as she leaned over to grab the lid each time. The storyteller thought this was hee-larious and laughed hysterically while I tried hard - oh so hard - not to kill him.

Incident Number 3: I was walking into work today and as I trundled past the back exit, I tripped over a concrete bar on the ground that had "somehow" escaped notice (and by "somehow" I mean my boobs and belly had completely blocked it out). Happily, I was able to catch myself before falling flat on my ass (which thankfully can't interfere with my vision no matter how big THAT'S getting).

Quite frankly, I'm not sure I'll be able to make it through another 4 or so months of this, because even before getting pregnant I was klutzy enough to just barely escape ending up on one of those Darwin Awards emails I get from time to time. Time to invest in steel toed boots, a hockey helmet and lots of bubble wrap fashion, I guess.