Keepin' it Real

I have officially hit that point in pregnancy where strangers no longer have to ask themselves is she pregnant?  For instance, the janitor at my office building whom I see and say good morning to everyday (who is also extremely shy) said to me last week without hesitation, So, how is the baby coming along? That is when I knew for sure I had hit rolly polly status. It was on Tuesday after having four days off for the New Year and I had had a feeling that morning that I had hit a growth spurt. My normally comfortable stretchy black pants were feeling slightly too snug and when my boss saw me the same morning he also commented with, Wow, you are getting big!

I am trying not to be one of those women who acts like its some huge surprise that I am bigger now that I am with child.  I mean, Duh! At my first prenatal appointment my midwife told me that I should gain about 30 pounds. That number didn’t seem too scary at the time since by then I had only gained one lonesome pound. It wasn’t until Wednesday of last week that the reality of the weight gain set in. I had my monthly midwife appointment and when I got on the scale it said that I had gained 14 pounds in all. The month before I had only gained 7 lbs, but now I was into double digits and that was a little bit of a shock. (Denial is a wicked wicked beast). So when I got home that night I did what every normal girl does…I stripped down to my underwear, got out my makeup mirror and checked out my butt in the mirror. It had a couple more dimples than normal, but I didn’t gag as I imagined I would. Of course, my husband walked in (he has a sixth sense about when I have my clothes off) and asked me what I was doing. I told him about how much weight I had gained, and like the sweet husband that he is, he sat me down and convinced me that it was all belly (and boobs, he added) and that I shouldn’t worry about the weight gain because he wants the baby to come out big and fat. Every day since then he has told me about twenty times a day how sexy I am (luckily I am a sucker for overkill).

I felt much better after this…that is, until the next day when I discovered the swimsuit catalogue for Victoria Secret in my mailbox. I flipped through the first couple of pages before realizing I wasn’t emotionally prepared to see those skinny stick figures modeling tiny bikinis. Thank goodness that scrawny bitch Gisele isn’t still a model for VS. Ever since I read an article where she says that childbirth for her didn’t hurt one bit I have wanted to sit on her face while screaming does that hurt? Huh, huh? Does that hurt?

This isn’t the best belly shot (and this dumb blog website wont allow you to rotate), so tilt your head and enjoy!