Creature-Monster

Imagine my astonishment when my belly button popped out at only nine weeks. Nine weeks!

It wasn’t until well into my second trimester last pregnancy that my body outwardly hinted at the fetal-frenzy that was happening inside. I felt relieved that I was finally showing… like suddenly there was proof. I felt vindicated for all of my squawking and grumbling. “I told you I was pregnant” my body seemed to be telling the world.

This time I feel like my body is telling the world “whoa… somebody tell me to ease up on the cookies.” Almost the instant I found out that I was in a “family way” my hard-earned flat stomach turned into Mount Bloatpudding.

I would not go so far as to say that I look pregnant, but my body has taken on an interesting in-between appearance. Ryan use to play a Playstation game where the bad guys were these creature-monsters with skinny arms and legs and swollen bellies and chest areas. They would chase you and grunt and swing their long limbs around. I was shocked the other day post-shower to look in the mirror and see a “creature-monster” peering back. I started grunting and swinging my arms around –just for good measure of course- but had to stop because I was afraid my prolonged laughter might send me into premature labor.

Perhaps I have unrealistic expectations of this pregnancy. Last time I never even needed to buy maternity jeans. I was what my friend Shauni lovingly referred to as an “orange on a shish kabob”…all belly. Not this time. No-sir-ee. I am already unbuttoning my fly when I sit down to watch the tube. This time things are going to be different.

So I have to keep telling myself “you’re not fat, you’re pregnant” which is pretty lame. Why on earth should I need to justify to myself why my body doing what it is supposed to be doing naturally. Nowadays, I feel like there is a cultural expectation to be cute and fashionable and slender (everywhere else of course) while pregnant. As if the pressure to be rail-thin isn’t enough when only eating breakfast for one. Dumb. From this point forward I am going to where my ballooned belly-button as a badge of honor for the hard work my body is doing to bringing a beautiful healthy baby into this world.

P.S. The picture on this post is NOT me. My toenails are far-better manicured.

P.S.S. My apologies to any xy chromosomes who may have happened upon this blog.