20 weeks and counting ...

I'm cold right down the middle

where my coat doesn't meet

I have 10 little sausages 

at the ends of my feet.

My tummy (and my bummy)

- all as round as a beach ball

My face -- a disgrace

double chin and all.

But when my little sprout comes out

all wrinkled up and tiny

I'll crumple up this poem

and feel bad for being whiny.

People are starting to ask me if it's any day now.  Sure, plus or minus Nineteen weeks or so ...