Getting married when you are almost 22 weeks along inevitably means straying from the path of wedding tradition. The bachlorette party is no exception. For me, there was no swinging from chandeliers or drinking a dozen mojitos with a falic looking straw. Instead, a girlfriend of mine who planned the event, appealing to my recent cheese obsessions, set us up at The Melting Pot for cheese and chocolate fondue. I waddled out of there no less than 5 lbs heavier and all the happier for it.