So, at 6 weeks, I’ve officially grown out of all of my jeans. I can’t blame the baby for this though, because I had grown out of all but one before I even got pregnant. And since the baby is only the size of a pea (I think anyway), I can’t really blame it for me having grown out of the jeans that when I was shopping for, I asked Shane, “Are you sure these aren’t too baggy?” To which he said, “Are you nuts? No.” So, maybe it has more to do with me having worn tight jeans for the past decade or so. The good news is that a few months ago, I decided that I wanted to wear nothing but yoga pants and stocked up on some. I can still fit in those. And today for the first time, I wore one of my maternity jeans. Did I mention that I’m only 6 weeks along? I haven’t confirmed this, but my little pooch of a stomach seems to me to be very similar to the 3 month pooch I had with Caleb. This actually doesn’t bother me though. A few months ago, I became resigned to the fact that I won’t be a size 4 forever. I’m 31 now and I think my body just feels like it needs some extra padding. Fine with me. Plus, I’m really excited about having a big belly. I really like being pregnant, so getting fat doesn’t scare me. I like having a big round belly and filling out my itty bitty bras because it’s really the only time in my life that I feel very womanly.