Today, while on my lunch break, I decided to drive over to Steven’s office and meet him for lunch. I walked into the building and was checking-in at reception; the receptionist was a very cheery, middle-age woman and here’s how our conversation went:

{Jump past the hellos, etc.}

Receptionist: Congratulations!

Me: Thank You! (turn to Husband) Have you just been telling everyone? (meaning about the baby)

{small talk about when I’m due, boy/girl, etc.}

Receptionist: I actually knew because I saw your cute little tummy.

Me: Oh! (surprised) Good, I was afraid it wasn’t looking like a pregnant tummy.

{more chatting, good byes}

Why do I write this? Well, I didn’t think I was really showing that much, but I guess granted I am 4.5 months preggo, it’s obvious and I’m just in denial.

As someone that has battled with weight 80% of her life, the little devil on my shoulder couldn’t help but think “Wow! Good thing you’re pregnant, because if you weren’t that would’ve been really embarrassing for you. What would you’ve done to cover that one up?” But as those thoughts entered my mind, the pregnant angel on my shoulder whispered back, “You actually ARE pregnant and enjoy this! And remember, the lady complemented you on how good you look.”

So, I guess (almost) half-way into my pregnancy I really am showing. I think I’ll gladly welcome this little pregnant angel on my shoulder for the next 4.5 (and maybe a few more after that for body transitioning time) months.