No more self pity for me!!!

I am six months along in my pregnancy and the "weight" of the situation is really starting to kick in. I have really stuggled with this baby because it has been so different from my first. With Tylie, I never had to even buy maternity clothing. I carried her so high that all of my clothes were able to pull over her and all I had to deal with was a few stretched out shirts in the end. This one on the other hand has me in maternity clothes at 5 months and I feel like I am carrying him everywhere! I look down at my stomach and wonder if the doctor did not make a mistake on my due date. I feel I should be delivering in a couple of weeks. I know that many people out there think that being pregnant is beautiful and you have a "glow" that you would not have any other time. I just cannot seem to grasp this concept. Everytime I look in the mirror, "beautiful" is far from the first thing that comes to my mind. I have been feeling sorry for myself because I feel huge and it seems like baby boys run big in the Hancock side of the family. Jake has reminded me on several occasions that both him and his dad were well over 10 pounds when they were born. A short time ago Jake's grandma was up visiting from Arizona and I was able to sit down and talk to her for a while. Now, this woman is nothing short of a miracle in my eyes. Not only did she have 14 children and managed to raise them all to be productive adults, she talks about her child rearing years like they were no big deal and she would have been bored if she didn't have 14 little ones to chase around. Jake's grandpa died over 10 years ago and so the conversation often wonders to him and what he was like and how much she misses him. She sat there for about 2 hours telling Jake and I stories about life "back then". She recited memories of Jake's grandpa tearing his leg wide open, walking in the house and pouring table salt in the wound, wrapping it up, and heading back out the door to finish the chores. WHAT!!!!!! I hear these stories and wonder why it is I have to whine to Jake when I have a canker sore and he talks me into sprinkling some salt on it to heal it. Then I look to my side of the family and look at my grandpa who is well over 80 but could beat me in a foot race any day of the week. My grandpa grew up in conditions that most people would call child services on today because he had to share a room, and bed, with all his brothers just to stay warm at night. He got a job at a very young age earning nothing more then a dime caring for the cemetery in his town. He did this because his family needed help and that was a way he could contribute. I hear all of these things and I can't help but feel guilty that I am whining about it being over 78 degrees in my house and how I hate to in the mirror because my stomach is sticking out at every angle known to man. So, here I am. I am going to do better and not take for granted everything I enjoy on a daily basis. I want to be able to brag to my grandkids about how I had to share a room with my sister my whole life and how my parents expected me to get a job to pay for my first car. I want them to hear my "good ole days" stories and really admire me for my attitude and how I took life for what it was and enjoyed the ride all along the way.