Dear Self of the Future

To my dear self of the future, In case you are retracing your blog steps to investigate What It Was Like to be pregnant in the 9th month for what will most likely be the last time ever (unless God decides otherwise and/or you get invited to host your own reality television show "John and Kay Plus Three in a Condo the Size of a Skechers Shape-up"), here is what was happening way back then:

- You and your smoking hot husband went to a concert (Ben Folds) in which you were asked where your 3rd ticket was (hyuck hyuck hyuck) and in which you gave yourselves away as the couple who had not been out on the town since '96 because you asked a police officer where the Red Sox Free Shuttle was.  Oh, you mean the one that was discontinued last year?  Yeah, that one.  Kay bye.

- You had heartburn that made you wonder if hot lava was going to come spewing out of your ears. - You got a free Coke at Chipotle because the manager clearly felt sorry for you in your enormity.

- You banned yourself from going to the grocery store because every time you went, it was as though you were preparing to stock a bomb shelter for a year.  Every time you thought about leaving Baby Girl to go have another baby, it filled you with nervousness that there wouldn't be enough fruit snacks in the house with which to pack her lunch.

- You did not have bad swelling (yet).  Your wedding rings still fit.

- Your fetus baby kicked constantly and kicked hard.

- You made yourself a Bucket List.

- You were grumpy toward your smoking hot husband 95% of the time.

- You looked at this picture a lot. - You were unseasonably hilarious at times.

- You tried to enjoy this last month in which you'd probably ever be pregnant again, which basically meant you sniggered at the couples on TLC "Home Hunters" and drank a lot of seltzer limeade mocktails and blew through whole bottles of TUMS.