I…have a tummy.
There’s no nicer way of saying it. I. Have. A. Tummy. My fats are currently spilling out of my favourite Uniqlo skinny jeans.
Yes, yes, I am pregnant, I have this bun in my oven, a tiny human is growing in me blah blah blah.
But I am only 6 weeks along! The bun isn’t supposed to rise (and show) till after the first trimester, no? So why do I have a muffin top? WHY?
I blame INDIGESTION.
Not a day goes by without the contents of my stomach somersaulting. It’s like, woohoo! We be having partay in tummy! And then I have this instantaneous craving to eat something but the tummy gets all pissy after I have taken, oh, 10 bites and starts moaning, no, stop eating NOW. And then there’s this huge amount of gas that’s generated by all that moaning and groaning, and then I burp.
Real classy lady, I really am.
At least I don’t scratch my balls when I walk.