I’m sorry that all I do is talk about pregnancy. I suppose it was ridiculous of me to think my life would just go on like normal and I’d talk about the things I did before. Still, I feel bad for talking about something that doesn’t even register for some of you (or that you could understandably care less about.)
I went dress shopping while I was out in the burbs with my mom. We went to Target and Kohl’s and finally found something in the Junior’s section of the latter. A polka dot number you’ll see me in if you come to the show on Wednesday (7 pm at The Gallery Cabaret…ahem).
You’ll also see me looking like a house. Perhaps a small house, but still. I have never been this big. Ever.
And while I know there is a certain about of forgiveness when it comes to gaining weight during pregnancy, I came into it about fifteen pounds heavier than I would have liked.
As excited as I am to see this small baby bump forming, I am horrified by the image staring back at me in the mirror. An enormous shapeless blob that no longer has a waist. Forget my bulging belly, what about my huge boobs and thighs and ass and not in like, a delectable, juicy, thick kind of way.
I feel gross.
It doesn’t help that a few weeks ago I attended the baby shower of a long time family friend. She is five or six years my junior and looks lovely. Her small, thin frame still totally intact with the cutest pregnant belly there ever was. I felt twice her size when we hugged.
This is probably the last thing I should care about in terms of everything else pregnancy involves. Though honestly, I can’t say I’m a huge fan of frequent urination and gas.
The thing is, it doesn’t matter WHY I’m bigger now. At least, not in my head, not when I’m struggling to button a pair of shorts that are already six sizes larger than I was wearing last summer. It is not fun to see the elastic band of a stretchy dress pulled around my waist, making my body look like one giant globe.
I can barely comprehend the number on the scale. It’s a completely bizarre world in which the instinct to eat and diet are pushing against one another. To absolutely no one’s surprise, eating is winning out.
My growing stomach is also bringing attention to all of my other body parts, the ones that have also “benefited” from my increased calorie intake and my new walking speed of .01 miles an hour.
It’s just a shame that my body image is bumming me out so much, that I can’t simply associate all of these changes with a human life being formed inside of me. A human that needs a little room to breathe and move around.