Immaculate Conception

People said it couldn't happen. They said it was completely impossible. The laws of nature don't allow for it. Well I'm here to proclaim that not only can it happen, it did happen. It's a miracle! I'm pregnant, yet I haven't done a damn thing that would lead to procreation. The last time this happened was roughly 2000 years ago somewhere in Galilee or was it Nazareth or maybe it was Jerusalem. Who knows, that's not the point.
So you're probably wondering why I believe that a child has been conceived without the help of a man. Well, I don't know how it happened, but I've got all the classic symptoms of being with child. Here's the evidence. Draw your own conclusion.

Exhibit A: I've got cravings.
For the past few weeks I haven't been able to get enough of baked Tostitos with extra spicy salsa and yogurt. I know it sounds gross. But I love it. I can't stop eating it. Who would like a concoction like that unless they were preggers?

Exhibit B: My bladder has shrunk
I pee every hour on the hour and sometimes twice in the same hour. Ingesting one drop of liquid will send me to the bathroom within 5 minutes to relieve myself. I'm going through toilet paper like J Lo goes through husbands. I'm going to attribute these frequent sudden urges to my pregnancy instead of a possible case of overactive bladder.

Exhibit C: The skinny jeans no longer fit
Okay, fine. My skinny jeans haven't fit in over a year. But being pregnant is a much better reason for not fitting into my clothes than acknowledging the fact that late night trips to Fridays for the Brownie Obsession have made me a fat cow.

Exhibit D: Gas
Don't nobody got gas like a pregnant woman. And I must say I've been blowing my house up as of late. It could be the oat bran, whole grain bread, whole grain cereal, whole grain pasta, and brown rice that I feast on everyday, but it's much more plausible that pregnancy is the reason why the faint scent of sulfuric acid follows me wherever I go.

Exhibit E: I'm already starting to show
I'm not quite sure of the date of conception, however I know I'm pregnant cause I'm showing. My tummy pokes out and it's not squishy when I poke it. If that ain't pregnant I don't know what is? I highly doubt that the two eggs, home fried potatoes, buttered toast, and soup that I had for lunch have anything to do with my present condition.

See! When you add up all the symptoms, I'm most definitely gonna be having a little squirmy, screaming, shitting bundle of joy within the next 6 to 8 months. I'm sure of it. I could take a pregnancy test and know for sure, but I never did trust those home tests (remember the folks in the commercial get paid to say that test is error proof) and I don't want to see the incredulous stares at the doctor's office when I explain the story of my miracle baby. So nope, I'll keep this to myself until it's time for someone to knock me the hell out and deliever my kid for me. In the meantime, I'm off to go feed the growing embryo.