24 Weeks

A friend recently told me that around six months along, she thought she was so big that there was no way she could expand any more--then came months seven, eight, and nine, and her belly bloomed to proportions way beyond her wildest expectations. I'm kind of feeling that way as I hit the 24-week mark. It's like there's a valve pumping air in to my stomach at a rapid speed; my once too-big or too-long clothes are clinging to my basketball-sized belly. Forget the flowy tops and cute tanks I mentioned last week: At this rate, I'm going to have to find some mumus to wear in July and August!

This of course is all good news, as it means F is thriving just as he should be. I was laughing to myself yesterday watching Mark play touch football--he was easily the tallest guy on the field by about three inches, if not more. Meshed with my O'Connell string bean genes, odds are we're cooking up one extra-tall kid. Let's just hope he also gets some Wassner/Flynn athleticism to go along with the height...but if he wants to be a classic pianist or professional yodler, that's fine, too!