I should stress, first of all, that I am anything but fat, so I apologize to anyone who is actually overweight, because it may seem insulting when I say that I feel fat. But I do. I feel like a slimy ball of lard with a giant underground zit and burgeoning breasts.
I made the mistake of going clothes shopping today. Someone should outlaw shopping while pregnant (for anything but maternity clothes, which I--obviously-- do not require), or at least post warning labels. I gave up after two outfits. No more pre-abortion shopping for this girl.
Growing up, the museum near my house had what I believe were actual little fetuses in the stages of development. I don't remember how big the six week one was. I'm sure I could find out, but I'm not sure I really want to know.
I haven't decided whether I'm going to look at the ultrasound. Being a vegetarian for the i-hate-killing-animals reason, I believe that people who eat meat should know where it comes from and how it's killed. Should not I, then, be able to look at this potential thing inside me before I reject it?