Everything's Changing

I feel like screaming this morning, partly in fear, somewhat in anger, towards my rapidly changing body.

Today was to be a positive one, until I pulled my cagoule over my head and it caught on my bump, which certainly didn't happen yesterday. After trying my dress on last night and trying to reassure myself that I didn't look like a hideous, bloated cartoon, that will be ridiculed in the registry office. I now face the sheer stress of having to try it on again for size tonight. There is no glimmer of hope inside my swollen body that I will not look like a stretched, rippled, ivory hippo.

My reflection looks less upsetting full frontal, however my profile could bring tears instantly. No-one must stand to the side of me, which could prove tricky. I may have to constantly twist and spin to stand face to face. A rippled ivory hippo/Tasmanian devil is what I shall be.

Just to ram it all home, the under-wire in my bra has been creaking today. Each time I hear the noise, I feel like a geriatric, dusty old maiden that hasn't had any boob action since her youth and that if I bear to look down under the sighing bra, cobwebs will be swaying in the breeze to visually highlight each groan. 

Just to add onto my ever increasing list of current fears/stresses, I now have it in my head that the boy will not go near my boobs once I am lactating. Luckily, I am running behind schedule, well, maybe not so luckily on my part, as lactation is induced by stimulation. Do I demand more stimulation as I am clearly being neglected, which in turn will result in milk, thus freaking out the boy or delay his angst and maintain the lack of tit attention? But if I am to refrain from any boob action, why do I care if he is freaked? My head hurts badly. There is a definite retardation during pregnancy. I'm not sure what causes it, maybe hormones? Does my body place me in a state of absent-mindedness in order for me to forget the trauma of pregnancy in the hope I will procreate once again? 
Do I become this dumb during menstruation? I'm sure the boy would insist I do.