She's actual size, But she seems much bigger to me

I'm in my 34th week of pregnancy, and up until now, it has been a wonderfully easy pregnancy, from what I understand with talking to other women who have gone through the experience. I have yet to go through any hint of the morning sickness some women go through and the only true complaint I have so far is that I'm incredibly tired, either from insomnia or just my body working hard to support the little one. But being unemployed gave me the freedom to nap whenever I wanted. And I've been able to keep most of my hormonal emotions in check, no irrational mood swings, and 'pregnant brain' hasn't really affected me too badly. And even now that Baby Girl is started to fight against the restraints of such tight quarters which results in mild to HOLY-CRAP discomfort, it usually passes fairly quickly, and I can't really blame her - I wouldn't want to be smushed like that either.

The problem I've been dealing with in the last month or so, is fighting the urge to break out into tears because I feel like a big, honking zeppelin. Intellectually, I knew that my size would change and all of these changes are part of the beautiful process of creating life. Well, that's all nice and good for a greeting card, but hearing the unsympathetic words of the OB doctor whom I've seen the last two appointments just makes me feel swollen like a blob, not with the joy of a soon to be motherhood (especially when his words are, "You've gained 10 pounds in the last month; what happened there?" Insensitive mofo.)

The swollen feet and ankles don't bother me (actually, it's really quite amusing to me to see the change in sizes from day to day) as much as just catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror or trying to kneel or put on socks. It is then when I realize that all of the weight I have been putting on is preventing me from feeling anywhere near normal. And being a petite person, going from 125 to 180 in a year is hella scary.

I know that there is a significant portion of the weight that will be taken care of once I give birth and the fact that I plan to breastfeed also will help matters. But after the childbirth, I wanted to start putting together the wedding celebration plans that Scott and I never got to elaborate on in July. The thought of trying to find a wedding dress in my current state of mass just makes me think of Kirby in a off-white frock (Nintendo fans, anyone?)

My loving husband has been exceedingly supportive and soothing to my insecurities. He's a saint for doing so. And for the few I've spoken to about this specific dent to my self image, they have also been nice and understanding. I try to take their words as more than sweet words of reassurance. But it's hard to fight the scale and the reflection in the mirror.