Long before your gut actually starts to show (and we’re going to just not count the mean people who guess that you’re 3 months further than you are), clothes stop fitting. They just plain stop fitting. Sometimes it’s gradual, with the zipper giving you a bit more backchat each time til it just plain stops talk to you. Then you sigh, lay it tone side or bust out the belly band (and don’t throw them away friends, you’ll need ‘em for about 3 months after the baby. Yes. You will.) and let THAT hold everything up and together. And sometimes, oh sometimes, you try something on one night, and wake up in the morning to find it’s now about the size of Barbie’s summer wardrobe. Out of nowhere. Out of everlovin left field. Then there’s nothing to do but to have a silent breakdown in your increasingly unattractive underwear (seriously…do pregnant people NOT get to feel pretty? Really?) until you can get the heart up to finally accept that you really are…Pregnant. Not expecting, not ‘with child’ and not any of these other fun names. Pregnant. Large. Not so much in charge. And to finally step into some stretchy panel pants or diaphanous dresses that get even mop sticks called ‘fat’ So. Brace for the “oh you’re due any day now, huh?” comments when you’re a mere 4 1/2 months in.