Appropriately enough, a big box containing gently used baby items arrived yesterday. Margaret sent me a bunch of stuff that she no longer needs. I didn't have a chance to sort through the loot before the gamers arrived yesterday, but I did notice one item in particular. There was a small box Mother's Milk. From a quick read of the label this is a product that is promoted as helping to boost breast milk supply. I'm guessing that if size is anything to go by I'm probably not going to have the same supply issues as Margaret. I've been living with what I've been internally calling the B.O.U.S.s for months now. It takes effort to stuff them into my stretchy gym tops. My maternity bras have become snug. If these things on my chest aren't up to the task ahead I am going to be seriously annoyed.
The fetus continues to give every appearance of taking after Margaret. As best I can tell she is now working out in there several times a day. She has also been nagging me to get more exercise, quite effectively. There is nothing like someone using your bladder as a rebounder to get you up for a short walk in a hurry. It's a good thing she is learning the value of a low-impact cardio workout early. Of course she does take after me in some respects. Whenever her movements are forceful enough that I am sure Warren ought to be able to feel them from the outside she quiets down as soon as his hand gets close. Clearly she inherited a tendency to be difficult from someone. Of course I enjoy the frequent reminders that she is still alive in there. She can start running marathons in there for all I care, just so long as she arrives healthy and near her due date.