There are those who look absolutely beautiful and stunning when pregnant. And then there are those who, like me, look just like an Oompa Loompa.
I try not to be a hater. I really do. I try not to wish evil on the lovely ladies who somehow make it through nine months of gestation with just a tiny little watermelon of a belly sticking out of their bodies, and manage to keep their arms, legs, and behinds unaffected by pregnancy.
It’s just that sometimes I DO kind of hate them for showing up at the park and at the supermarket at the same exact time I do, flaunting their cute little preggo bods, while I waddle to and fro, feeling like I should be singing a song about Willy Wonka’s chocolate bars. Not fair at ALL.
It’s not for lack of trying on my behalf. I really AM making efforts to have a healthy pregnancy. I eat sensibly and healthfully, staying away from sweets, trying to balance my proteins and my carbs, taking my vitamins and drinking lots of water. I’ve been walking a few miles three or four days a week, and taking a once-a-week fitness class geared towards Senior Citizens (it’s totally pregnancy friendly, and the people who attend the class are warm and welcoming, even though I kind of stick out like a sore thumb among the crowd). And yet, the pregnancy pounds creep up, turning my body into a bowling ball with hands and feet.
I’ve tried to do other things to make me feel better about the way I look. I’ve bought some really lovely maternity clothing – lots of comfy, pretty tops that I think I might even wear post-pregnancy. It helps. Kind of. But most of the time I just feel like an Oompa Loompa dressed in a cute top and stretchy pants.
I DO try to not let it get to me. I try not to listen to the kind individuals who choose to remind me EVERY DAY that I look super duper pregnant and that my belly is SOOOO round (thanks, guys. I really appreciate that). I try not to pay too much attention when Em points at my midsection and says “Mama… BIIIIGGGG belly,” and laughs.
I try instead to focus on the kind words of one of the elderly ladies who attended my “Silver Sneakers” exercise class last week. She had asked me if I had already had the baby, because I looked much SMALLER than I had a few weeks before. When I told her I had a loooong ways to go before the birth, she told me I looked fantastic! I nearly kissed her on the mouth, I was so grateful. But of course, I also realized she was a good 90-something years old, and that her eyesight was… um… let’s say LESS than perfect.
Mostly, I try to focus on the fact that hopefully, in a little over four months from now, a little (or maybe big, the way things are going) baby boy will emerge from this Oompa Loompa body of mine, and that will make it all very much worthwhile.