Monday, November 27, 2006

Of Bigness and Gas

So the other night all the adults are in the living room chatting and all of a sudden:


The conversation suddenly stopped and all eyes swiveled in my direction. The look on Missy's (Tom's sister) face was that of surprise and shock, the same with his mother but Tom, Tom just sat there in his chair, rolled his eyes and played with his fingernail.

Yes, dear readers, if you haven't figured it out, I let one rip.

("That's nothing," Tom spoke up after the shock had blown over. "I feel like I should be wearing a gas mask when I go to bed.")

I'll be honest and say that I've always been a--shall we say--gassy person but I was always able to control said gas.

Not anymore.

Nowadays gas just happens. If I shift in my chair, there it goes. If I suddenly get up, oops, there goes another one. And all I'm able to do is smile apologetically, pat my growing belly and say, "Another side effect of pregnancy," before spraying the Febreze around the room.

Thank goodness Tom's family finds it amusing. It would be horrible if I was in a home where things were proper and farts frowned upon. I have a feeling if I had in laws like the Gilmore's (on Gilmore Girl's where they are frightfully rich) I'd be banished from any family functions until the baby was born.

("Where's Amber?" people might ask. "Oh she's banished. She has a problem with flatulance you see," the response might be.)

I'm also huge.

As in my stomach pops out and I've begun to waddle.

I didn't think that happened until the seventh or eighth month!

We were at a restaurant the other day and the waitress noticed my stomach and smiled.

"Do you have a Christmas baby coming?" she asked cheerfully.

A Christmas baby?

A Christmas baby?


My jaw dropped open in horror and I squeaked out that I wasn't due until March 17th.

"Oh, I see," the waitress said, not realizing that I suddenly had gone into a panic.

When she walked away with our orders I hissed at Tom, "Am I that big? Am I huge? I'm a whale, you can say it, just say it now Tom. I know I've been pigging out since we've been back in the States but I've been deprived Tom, DEPRIVED in England and--"

He cut me off my placing his hand softly on my lips. "You look great," he promised me, kissing the side of my head.

Of course that night as he watched me get out of the shower (I thought he found me sexy and even did a little naked dance for him) he announced, "Wow how many months are you?"

I paused, mid-dance.

"Um. Five months, almost six I think.."

"You are pretty big," Tom commented. Then he noticed my expression and how I was slowly reaching down for a shoe to chuck at his head. "But you look fine, really," he quickly added.

And the twin jokes!

His Mom keeps asking if I have more than one in there.

"The ultrasound said no," I responded.

"Twins do run in the family," she says ominously.


The idea of twins is adorable but the actual IDEA of them...I'd lose my mind, what little of it I have left.

"Take care of Natalie and Nathan," Tom's Mom will say jokingly as I waddle past her.

"Only NATALIE!" I'll retort quickly.


I'm going to have to start buying medium maternity clothes soon if I keep up with all this growing. My jeans (my EXPANDABLE jeans) are slowly becoming tighter and some of my size small shirts are clinging to my stomach.

I don't even want to see how much weight I've gained.

I gained 40 with Tommy.

But I blame the McDonalds that was right down the street for that.

(Oh and I'll probably post photos in Wyoming. As I've said before I don't want to upload my photo programs on Tom's Mom's computer. But when we get settled I can put the programs on the laptop and do it from there. I have tons of photos.)


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