Four weeks.

3 months later -

"I can't do this anymore Jake, I really can't!" I yell, slamming my phone down onto the dressing table. I sigh heavily, tears brimming my eyes.

"Emily, we can easily fix this." Jake responds casually, coming up behind me to wrap his arms around my stomach. His large hands feel around my bump, fingers stroking the skin.

"I don't see how this will get any better Jake." I sigh, feeling annoyed. I glare in the direction of my wardrobe, shooting deathly daggers at the skimpy clothing.

"I'm just so fat!" I yell, frowning as I stare down at my stomach. It's round and sticking out, taunting the insecure voice inside of my head. Nothing fits me anymore, not even my baggy sweaters.

Everything clings tightly to my stomach, threatening to burst at the seams. My feet are swollen, my legs are puffy and I suffer with constant heartburn. It's basically a stream of fire burning inside of your chest and throat.