I am huge...

... and not in the Paris Hilton "that's hot" kind of way*, but rather in the "are you sure you're not having twins?" kind of way.

Seriously, one of my co-workers asked me that this morning. When I said no, she suggested that perhaps I'm carrying both a baby and a puppy. Which is kind of gross (birthing a puppy? ewww), but also pretty funny. Chris and I have often said that the baby should get its own dog, because Rosie's our dog and we don't want to share, not even with our first born.

To date, I've gained 16 pounds since getting pregnant, which is actually a smidgen on the low end — so much for gaining weight too rapidly in the beginning. The main reason I've slowed down is because eating has become quite difficult. My stomach must now be the size of a grape, because I get full extremely fast. As a result, I have to graze all day, eating little bits here and there. Which is actually really good for maintaining a regular blood sugar level for the baby. But it's also really good for your metabolism, meaning I probably burn a crazy amount of calories schlepping my massive self to the bathroom 50 times a day.

So, even though I haven't gained that much so far, currently it's ALL BELLY. This has also led every woman who sees me to say that, without a doubt, I'm having a boy. The fetal heart rate would suggest otherwise, but you know what? Both of these things are old wives tales.

All I know is this: I'm having a baby. Just one. And possibly a puppy.

* I just learned this term from a recent episode of "Kathy Griffin: My Life on the D-List," which, other than SYTYCD, is quickly becoming my favorite thing on television.