Well Hello There

So for the past few weeks people have been assuring me that I’m not showing yet. I felt like I was, but since I’m the only person who has spend the past 20 ish years meticulously analyzing my stomach everyday, it made sense that I was the only one who had noticed. Even though I could tell I was getting bigger, it still just looked like I ate a large Thanksgiving meal…everyday…for 14 weeks.

But today, something changed. I looked in the mirror and was like “oh hello there, belly.” What had once looked like a flabby inter tube keeping me a float on the crazy Life River, now looks distinctly like a round, child holding melon. I definitely look pregnant. Which, of course, calls for a freak out! My first thought was:

“It seems way to early to be this big. Damn you, Joe! Your mammoth seed is going to make me HUGE! I’ll be like one of those big Russian dolls where tons of smaller dolls keep popping out of it.”

And then I was like

“Holy Crap, its real. This baby is real. I’ve known for a while it was real. But now its really making its presence known. This is happening. O gosh. I need to sit down.”

As I recovered from my mini breakdown, I suddenly sympathized with every pregnant woman who has ever walked the earth. I never understood why pregnant women worried about their weight or felt bad about being “fat.” I always thought “Hey, your growing a kid in there. Everybody knows it and nobody is judging you, so cheer up.” And of course, I vowed never to be like those women. But today I realized that isn’t really about the size, and it isn’t about what other people are thinking. Its about the fact that your body is no longer your own and no matter what you do that stomach is going to continue to bulge to sizes you have never seen in your life. It’s about the fact every day you have a very physical reminder of what has, and will continue, to change your life forever. And, lets be real, a little bit of the worry really is about your actual size. Society has embedded those skinny girl dreams pretty deep in our minds, and two pink lines on a pregnancy test won’t instantly flush them out.

My freak out is now over, and its time to look at the bright side. First, I get some new clothes which, maternity or not, is always exciting. Second, I have a Dr. appt next week and when she confirms that my uterus is a normal size I can stop having horrific visions of Russian dolls. Third, it a few more weeks it will become obvious to everyone that I am pregnant and the Thanksgiving dinner phase will officially be over. And lastly, I am thankful that I’m this big because of a baby and not because of an actual Thanksgiving dinner. Because that would be gross.

PS I hate baby bump pictures but since I’m talking about it, I figured I show you. The one in the white shirt was taking on Monday. The one in the pink shirt was taken today. Do you see what I mean? It has definitely rounded out in the past few days.

I never know what face to make in these pictures. Gah, so awkward

I think I need to start wearing make up for these bump photo shoots.