Let me start by saying...
Yes, I am pregnant.
Yes, I am hormonal.
Yes, I am a little psychotic.
Yes, I am bigger than I was with Quinn at this time.
Yes, I am a woman with feelings....although slightly elevated feelings.
To friends and strangers alike, I ask this question...
If you wouldn't say it to a woman who is not pregnant, why would it be ok to stay it to one who is? Why do the rules change? Why is it suddenly socially acceptable for everyone and their brother, friend or stranger, to comment on what is happening with my body?
At 16 weeks, I recieved my first comment. Here I am at almost 34 weeks, still recieving multiple comments a day. It's getting very old. A girl can only politely smile and laugh so many times, while trying to hide the smart remarks running through her head, and mask the hurt she feels.
"Are you sure there's only one in there?" Yes, I am sure there is only one baby in there. Just ask Dr. Kaldas....he'll tell you. When you say this to me, while I know you are trying to be cute and funny, it really says, "wow, you're ENORMOUS." And that's not something any woman, pregnant or not, wants to hear.
"You look like you are ready to pop!" No, I am not ready to "pop." When you say this to me, while I know you are trying to be cute and funny, it really says, "wow, you're ENORMOUS." And that's not something any woman, pregnant or not, wants to hear.
To my fellow teacher who said at 29 weeks, "well you look like you're ready to have that baby any day now?" "No, actually I have 11 weeks left." "Oh well, I had a baby 11 weeks early."
Really? Because every mother wants her baby to be born dangerously early....I don't think so.
Today, two different women at two different quilt shops told me that I wasn't going to make it 2 more weeks. Again....because every mother wants her baby born early. I really appreciated it when one of them called a friend over to check out the size of my belly, to get her bets on how much longer I would make it.
To the random grandpa at the school concert whose belly was bigger than mine...oh yeah...when is your baby due? OH...you mean you're not expecting?
"When are you due?" "February 2." Followed by a horrified look and a low moan....Yes I do have a long way yet to go....no there is nothing wrong with me....no I do not have a horn growing out of my forehead...
You must be so uncomfortable....actually I feel totally normal.
I can not leave the house without someone thinking that it is their business to comment on my pregnancy. While I know that people are not trying to be hurtful, it's difficult not to be bothered when the comments come so frequently.
I have been blessed with a body that very easily handles pregnancy. I don't throw up or have aversions to smells or food. I am not rediculously tired. I have no swelling, high blood pressure, difficulty breathing or anything else. I am able to work a full day at school and still come home and be a human being. The weight I have gained has been fairly well contained to my belly. I am fortunate that I haven't gotten huge all over. While I like to say that I am 5 ' 3", I am really 5'2" with a short torso. Where else is this baby going to go but out? I am able to exercise and other than my enormous belly and waking several times a night to use the bathroom, I feel completely normal.
"They aren't calling you fat, they are just commenting on your belly."
It is difficult to separate the two, because attached to this belly is a women, who has for most of her life been a bigger girl. The big girl in dance class, the big girl in the group of friends. Not obsese, but the size 12 among the 4's. Who, like most women, wonders deep inside if she is pretty enough, thin enough, smart enough? Who is reminded daily of the size of her growing belly when she ties her shoes, cuts her toe nails, leans over the sink doing dishes instead of standing up right, who no longer has much room left in her lap for her toddler to snuggle. A woman, who wonders what her body will be like when baby 2 comes out? How loose will my stretch marked skin hang? Will I be able to lose this weight? Will I ever be pretty enough, smart enough, thin enough?
Now matter which cute and funny way you choose to camoflauge what you are really saying, please don't tell me that I'm enormous. I already know. When you ask me if I'm ready to pop, or if I am sure there is only one baby in there...you only emphasis and remind the fears I had since middle school. You say to me....you're not thin enough, pretty enough, smart enough, appreciated, and valued. Your belly is so big, there must be something wrong with you.
All the while, I will smile and try to shake off which ever comment was made. I will remind myself that people think they are trying to be cute and funny not realizing that maybe it's more hurtful than funny.
I will gladly endure these last 6 of forty weeks, no matter how huge I get, I will welcome our baby knowing that it was all worth it....I will be rewarded with a wonderful husband and two beautiful children who will never care if my purple marked skin hangs off me, never to return to it's original smooth and tight surface. I was chosen to be the mother of this child, and for that, I'll gladly take a second round of stretch marks, sleepless nights, "cute and funny" comments from friends and strangers, saggier old lady boobs after I have finished nursing a second child. I will know that if I return to my size 10 self and even if I don't, despite what people say to me, I am smart enough, pretty enough, thin enough, talented enough, appreciated and valued.
Even if you really want to tell me how huge I am, filter your thoughts, and instead say, Congratulations!
I'm so happy for you!
You look beautiful!
I'll come over and clean your bathroom/vaccuum/do the dishes!
What kind of meal can I bring you when the baby is born?
I'll watch the kids so you can take a shower in peace.
After selecting a recipe (we stuck with a simple vanilla for our first attempt) and gathering the right ingredients, Quinn and I set to work. Every ice cream maker needs a 3 year old side kick.
Best ice cream ever...
On December 4th, we celebrate Quinn's 3rd birthday. It has been a very fast and wonderful 3 years. Although, I don't remember what life was life before him. It seems like we have had him with us for ever. He is a blessing is every way. As much as we try to teach him, he is teaching us.
Grandma Golden made a special cake with Quinn's two favorite guys (aside from bear and bunny), Lightning McQueen and Mader.
We told him that everyone was coming over at dinner time, a little lie in this case hoping to lead to a good nap. Had we told him the truth (that the party started at 3:30...right after nap), his nap would have been just a blink. He woke up to find everyone at the house. His only response was, "can I have my party now?" While a little bit of a misnomer....Quinn, buddy, the party is all the people who are here to see you....while by his definition....it really meant, "can I have a cupcake now?"
After a good dinner....a natural fare for a kids birthday party...sloppy Joes....a well deserved cupcake and a scoop of New York Vanilla.
Dad shopped all week to find just the right present. We saved it for last.
When you realized what it was, you ripped it right of out the box...who cares about opening the box. It's all about the Badger football helmet.
