Going to TRY to stop fretting over my current and constant reality: endless weight gain. It freaks a girl out to watch a scale climb predominantly beyond her control. And rage at me all you want but I've NEVER found baby bumps cute. Am positively not adoring the slow signs of my own. I know I know I know its all for L. And about keeping L nourished, thriving & healthy. And trust, I put L first in all of this for sure, I wanted & love L. But good Lord, I feel gross. Going to go against the grain again by saying I never did desire an abundant bra cup. Honestly, in most every aspect of life, my cup runneth half empty and am OK with that (expect the worst, hope for the best is my motto). So, this too is a burden both literally and figuratively. I feel like a Monroe-era wanna-be. And I know I need to work through this. Voluptuousness
isn't
a bad thing. Voluptuousness isn't a bad thing. Voluptuousness isn't a bad thing... riiiiiiight. & oh, OK yeah, i have had a few more indulgences here & there that i wouldn't have ordinarily partaken of pre-L. L wants it! ;-)
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