As per your request, dear readers, here are two pictures of my belly with shirt down (that makes it sound like I run around lifting my shirt for every picture like a hoochie mama, doesn't it?)
So this is me, at 17.5 weeks, in my work clothes. This is what I look like when I get the majority of my 'OMG you aren't showing, when are you going to look pregnant?' comments.
And really, with a loose shirt you really CAN'T tell that much, right?
But here is me in my lounge wear and when Nate looked through the camera view-finder for this one, he literally said, 'Holy cow.' Yes, literally.
Maybe if I start wearing really tight tops to work everyone will get off my back?
And in other news, this weekend is the Chicago Marathon! If you do recall, both Nate and I were training for this bad boy all summer long until my pending motherhood forced me to step aside for Nate to shine solo on this one. Allow me to collect my thoughts for a second...
One year ago, I completed the Lakefront Marathon without my husband although we both trained together for that one, too. He injured his ankle on our longest training run at 22 miles and basically did not have enough time to devote to running in the midst of his most difficult semester in grad school. And so, what was supposed to be OUR first full marathon became MY first full marathon. Nate was the most amazing supporter ever (aside from my other fans who stuck it out in the cold weather--my in-laws and parents!). He didn't whine about feeling sorry for himself because he couldn't do the race. He simply yelled for me on the sidelines and then ran the last 5 miles with me constantly saying things like, 'You are doing so awesome, baby. I'm so proud of you. You look great and are kicking major A.' Even though I didn't believe him and was a raging witch while he coaxed me through he was my lifesaver. I know, without a shadow of doubt, that my time would have been significantly slower if it were not for my biggest fan. I'm sure I would have finished but I might have had a mental breakdown and...heaven forbid...I might not have beaten Oprah's time without Nate.
So fast forward to this year: we signed up for Chicago in March after I pushed for it, saying that I really wanted to do Chicago and beat my time. Nate decided to saddle up and pray for no injuries this time around and so we began our training together. But of course, when I got knocked up and later could not run at a decent pace to save my life, I had to be smart...just like Nate had to do last year when he was hurt...and bow out. This means that Nate will get to run in his first full marathon without me, just like I did last year. We will be on an even playing field with one and one for fulls:)
But part of me SO wishes I could at least run the last 5 with him. I just know that if I did, I wouldn't help speed him up at all. And if I felt awful, with my thick pregnant blood, I wouldn't want him to worry about me and lose focus on his race. I just don't think I will be helpful, like he was for me. So most likely, I will just cheer him on with all of my might (and baby will be cheering for his Daddy, too) and know that maybe someday we'll actually cross the finish line at Chicago together. Sure we've done two halves together but it's just not the same.
I am so proud of Nate already, you guys. He has kicked major training butt lately and even on the long 22 mile run, he stayed healthy. Training by yourself totally sucks sometimes but he stuck it out. And when I think about seeing him at different points during the race, it makes me a little emotional already. All of his hard work is truly going to pay off this time and the feeling he will experience at the finish line, 26.2 miles behind him, will definitely be indescribable. I know that feeling and how amazing it is. And I cannot wait for him to get his moment in the spotlight.
He's totally going to represent our family like the stud he is....and I betcha a hundred bucks he beats my time from last year. Secretly, I think that might be his goal even though he says he just wants to finish. :)
Here's to Nate, kicking butt in the frigid cold Chicago weather on Sunday morning! I plan on being a psycho photographer wife all day long, don't worry:)