I would just like to put out a general PSA that it’s perfectly alright to see a pregnant lady and not tell her how pregnant she looks.
Just this last week I’ve gotten what feels like an overwhelming amount of comments about the size of my pregnant belly.
“Wow! Due any day, huh?” Nope. 2 more months.
“Are you having twins again?” No but thanks for insinuating that I’m big enough to be carrying around twice what I actually am.
“Your baby must have JUST dropped-look how big you’re getting!” – for the record, I’ve felt like my belly is down in my lap for months now, it hasn’t “just dropped”.
I keep telling myself that there are a lot of women out there who would love to be pregnant with their own baby, and I should be grateful for the opportunity to carry my own child. But it still irks me. I just want to fly low under the radar, do my 9 months time, and not get a lot of attention about it.
I feel fat.
Nothing I wear is comfortable. Pants compress my tummy to the point that I can feel my blood pumping in my belly when I sit down. Skirts are the same. If I wear loose tops, my girls tug at me and expose my boobs. Long dresses get tangled in toddlers. Shorter length dresses are a pain because I can’t sit with my legs together, so I’m risking exposing my undercarriage every time I sit down.
When I stand still for more than 10 minutes my left leg goes numb. Just one of the side effects of pregnancy, says my OBGYN.
I’m having Braxton Hicks contractions all.the.time.
Yet, I have some dear friends who make me feel guilty (of course, not on purpose). Here I am, horribly uncomfortable, grouchy,fat, and tired, and they keep telling me “Oh, I just loooooved being pregnant!” and staring dreamily at my basketball belly. Like it’s something to be desired.
But I really want it to be over.
I want to hold my toddlers in my lap or carry them in my arms.
I want to go to a church potluck and not be hollered at from across the room to come get some cobbler, and by all means I should have a double serving of ice cream.
I want to be able to wear yoga pants on the weekend. Or any stretchy pants that don’t cut off my circulation.
I want to be able to sit at the dinner table and have dinner, which I can’t do anymore because if I sit and lean forward I can’t breathe.
I want to go to the grocery store with the twins and not get stopped by strangers every 5 minutes to talk about my belly, am I having twins again, and how much I’m going to have my hands full.
But if you see this girl, do her a favor and just keep on walking. Think your nice thoughts, know that you’re a kind person who just wants to be polite, and let that be the end of it. She’s been interviewed by plenty of other strangers and doesn’t want to be asked a million questions about her pregnancy.
That’s the end of this PSA from Grouchy Pregnant Working Moms of America, now back to your regularly scheduled programing…