Irish lass belly

My goodness, my Guiness! The scale tells me I've put on another pound, so make that three so far. Still, with the majority of it going to my chest, I'm not yet obviously pregnant. My father quipped, "It just looks like you're a girl who enjoys a few beers every now and then." Of course, now a delicious pint is likely to be orange juice, chocolate soy milk, or perhaps cherry limeade if I'm feeling particularly punchy.

I've turned into what my dear husband has always called the Corn-Fed Girl: looks farm-raised and healthy with pleasing softness; female who doesn't perceive food as an enemy.