I find pregnancy to be quite weird. My body has taken over. It’s running a long-embedded script I didn’t know I had inside of me.

I’ve taken to writing short bits on twitter under the hashtag #pregrealities.

Something about Twitter makes me feel like I actually exist, or something. Confirmation of identity. Proof of existence.

Or I’m just talking out loud to myself. Whatever. I need to talk.

A warning, though. Don’t ever look up the hashtag #pregnancy. It is too alarming and too strange. Just don’t do it.

I’m like, let’s get dinner. Hubby says, sure, I’ll be about 45 minutes? I say great, I’ll see you there in 45 minutes. I leave for the restaurant.

(I’ll have two dinners, no problem.)

The confusing feeling of being both physically full but still RAVENOUS. No more room in stomach. Must eat again in 1 hour.

Tall pregnant ladies don’t look pregnant when they most need to: months one through four, the vomit months.

Everything about this pregnancy is confronting my need for, and my sense of, control.

CEO comes over, says ‘Hey wanna smell this new startup cologne,’ ME: NO PLEASE NO—He sprays it. I’m dying.

Will I have a big bump or a small one? Will I be a waddler or a speed-walker? I CAN’T KNOW! I WON’T KNOW! I have control issues.

Thinking about this won’t make it go any faster, will it?

It’s a good thing I’m not being paid to organize this. If my mind ran the pregnancy, we’d obsess over the weirdest shit and other things wouldn’t get done.

I’ve gotta stop serving the portions at dinner. Hubby and I are gaining weight at the same pace. Only one of us is pregnant.

5 months in and already I feel like I can’t eat fast enough for this baby.

Sometimes I eat food and I feel the baby punching up towards my stomach like he’s trying to get the food faster.

Everything on my front side is ballooning outwards. My boobs have never been this big.

Actually, my boobs are starting to rest on top of my stomach. This I distinctly do not like.

Wait, wait! Make it slow down! I’m not ready yet!

Only four months left? Oh, shit.

I made a joke about falling down and dropping dead and my OBGYN looked very worried. Maybe my sense of humor is too dark. #Don’tJokeAboutBabies

I bet there are some people, when they get a pregnancy announcement from a friend, are like “Damn. Another friend lost.”

Never read the mommy blogs. Just don’t do it.

Well gosh, everyone has advice! Thank you so much!

Why do they all want to rub my tummy? I’ll rub YOUR tummy. Does it feel weird when I rub your pot belly? K.

No, I have no idea what the heck I’m doing.

Yes, I work at a startup and I’m pregnant. I might be insane. Did you ever think I wasn’t?

When you have to write out your maternity policy because you’re building a startup (and a human) from scratch. #StartupPregnant

OH: “Where is the baby exactly?” #InMyUterus #WhatIsAUterus #OhGod

The list of things pregnant women should not do is like a cracked-out version of everything everyone gives up for Lent. Except… who gives up going to the sauna for a 9-month lent?

I’m gonna have a nice Bourbon when this is all over.

I have a baby boy inside of me.

Pregnancy is so strange, and so weird.

If I forget for a second that I’m pregnant, my body definitely reminds me.

I can feel you kicking inside of me. You have a tendency to kick me in the stomach whenever I start eating. You hungry too? I know, I know.

Hey Little Mister. I took you to see Star Wars today in the theater. Your dad says it’s the first movie you’ve seen in the theater. We’re training you right.

I can’t believe I’m growing a person.

I can feel myself slowing down, and it actually feels all right. I like this. There’s a sense of peace growing.

When I look around at all the men in the world, I realize, I’m growing one of them.

We were sitting on the train today, you and I, on our first trip down to Philadelphia. Already you’ve already been down to Philadelphia and on a plane to Colorado and in a few weeks we’ll be taking you to Kentucky.

If you’re anything like your mama, you’ll be a bit of a traveler in your future. If you’re anything like your dad, you’ll love cuddling up with a good book and staying warm by a fireside (or in a sauna).

We found out you were a boy and I said something like, “the Little Mister in here wants a lot of food,” because you made me super hungry again, and your name stuck.

I have no idea what we’ll name you when you arrive, of course, but for now, you’re in there.

Thanks for choosing me to be your mama.

We feel so lucky that you’re going to come into our lives.

We’re scared about being parents, but I think we’ll do a fairly decent job at it.

I hope we can teach you a lot and give you so much love and support and space.

Space to enjoy being a child, space to play, space to grow up and grow wise and become whoever you’re going to become.

I can’t wait to meet you, Little Mister.