1. My stomach now sticks out more than my knockers. This is a major first considering my knockers have entered the room before me ever since I was about 15.
2. The last 25 weeks has been my longest adult stretch without any booze. Quite proud of myself actually, even though some days I miss champagne like a woman demented. Other days, I couldn’t care less. On the demented days, I make Mr Chick swear he will bring me a glass of chilled Laurent Perrier Rose the minute I have pushed the chicklet out of my nether regions. Along with a tray of Aburi salmon sushi, blue cheese and lavosh crackers and chocolate mousse.
3. I’ve lost count of the amount of times I’ve thought of Alien and Sigourney Weaver when the chicklet has kicked me. (I do love it when he kicks and often it makes me giggle – but can we all agree it is seriously weird as well knowing there’s a person in there moving about? I mean what is he doing in there? Is he bored? Should I be reading him books already or singing Kum-bah-yah?)
4. I look down and can no longer see my lady garden. No idea what the hell is going on down there.
5. Drooling while asleep. Pregnancy-induced drooling is nothing like occasional in-your-sleep drooling. Don’t ask me to elaborate. Also, moles. I must’ve developed about 10 new moles in 2 weeks. It’s disconcerting how they keep popping up.
6. Putting on underpants of a morning has become a major achievement due to dodgy shift in centre of gravity. Some mornings I don’t even bother. (A work-from-home perk.)
7. I can actually sit on the couch doing nothing and suddenly feel so breathless I’m unable to speak. This officially freaks Mr Chick out whose catchphrase lately is, ‘Um, are you alright babe?’ No, not really darling, kind of suffocating due to my lungs being swallowed up by my ginormous uterus.
8. I can no longer complete the military operation that involves changing our bed sheets. I probably won’t be changing sheets until, oh, October. Or maybe even November or December.
9. Bumps don’t fold over tables or sinks. Hence, can no longer drink from tap after brushing teeth.
10. I have, for the first time ever, fallen in love with a pillow. It’s called the body pillow, I bought it at Target for $30 and I can wrap myself around that sucker in all manner of ways, alleviating achy hips, sore knees and numb hands. It is waiting to enfold me in its loving embrace after my 100th nightly trip to the loo. The downside is that the body pillow is so huge it takes up around 70 percent of our queen-sized bed, thus pushing Mr Chick into a tiny corner. Sexy times, people.