Yesterday, early in week 8, I popped. My formerly fairly-flat stomach suddenly had a bit of a bulge that didn’t go away no matter how much I sucked it in. Still, I felt pretty confident no one was going to notice.
Until today, when Mark commented on how he could now tell I was showing. “I wonder how long you’ll be able to hide it from work,” he said. At the time, I was sitting on the couch, which emphasizes the bulge, and wearing a little t-shirt for a bike ride – not something I’d wear to work.
But still, now that I know I’m showing and that the initial pop is an irreversible process, I’m stressing out a bit. Another week and a half until vacation. I hope I can continue to look normal for that long. I guess it doesn’t matter too much if I start to show in Spain. But neither do I really want to return to the office in June with a protruding belly.
Last time I didn’t tell my employer until 14 weeks and no one had noticed. I’m pretty sure that won’t be the case this time.