When I was
pregnant, I desperately wanted to be one of those still mostly-trim gals who sport a nice, contained
baby bump. Instead, I looked like I had been batter dipped from head to toe and rolled in extra dough for good measure. By the end, I had maybe one decent leave-the-house outfit that I could wriggle into; the rest of the time I lived in maternity sweats and (I am not proud of this) an old pair of overalls.
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