Thirty weeks is here! My shirts have now turned into midriff tops, which is so strange. The top of the shirt is still flapping in the wind, but my belly is causing those overstretched cotton fibers to hang on for dear life. I actually made it through an entire day not realizing my shirt wasn't covering my entire belly. Thank God for stretchy pants and the giant piece of elastic that holds me in because otherwise the public would have been exposed to a dramatic sight I call my belly. From all the wiggling around, Boomer is trying desperately to make more room. Either that or he's trying to make an exit by busting through my stomach. Ten more weeks and we'll be more than happy for him to find an escape route, but until then I'll just keep watching my boy move.
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