So I was stupid last night.

Rather than delve into the full scope of my stupidity, you can read about it on Bryan’s site.  It will save me keystrokes this way, and Lord knows I’m not moving awfully fast this morning.

IN MY DEFENSE (Bryan), I was active BEFORE the demon spawn took hold of my uterus.  I may not have been jogging every day, but I was physical onstage, I attended the gym probably once a week, and I wasn’t the lump of pregnant clay that I am now.  So I thought that I would be able to AT LEAST get in 10 minutes of Turbo Jam before passing out. (I got 3 minutes and 16 seconds.)

And suffered.  My nu-nu was uber sore, and my knees?  Oh, God, my knees.  I considered not telling Bryan that I’d been a BAAAAAD girl, but the limp would’ve given me away.

This morning, I’m not as sore (unless I move suddenly.. to perform, say, a turbo jab), but I am sluggish.  And I plopped my majorly fat ass down at work and was firing off an email to Steph about how incredibly lard-acious I am, when..

.. I felt it.

I took a minute, because surely this wasn’t it.  Surely I wouldn’t feel my baby for the first time when I was in the middle of bitching about what a horrible life it had brought upon me.  Then I realized it was MY child, and sure enough, it will reek of irony and timing.

I took a breath, and felt it again.  Swift and sure along my belly.  Not forceful or painfull, but definite.  And this is, no lie, the email I was in the middle of writing:

But I put on 7 lbs in a month.  7 LBS!  The doctor said not to worry, but jesus..

I’m trying to calm down about it.  But

.. you would not believe this but I just felt the baby.