What can I say, my love for alliterations hasn’t
gone away even with the changes going on in my life right now. Today’s post is
more personal than others mostly because as a writer, I need to get these words
out, and also I find the further I get into this whole pregnancy thing the less
I really care what people know. Now don’t worry, I have no want to get graphic
details of pregnancy, childbirth, and all those other gross things (sorry I
still have a hard time seeing it as a beautiful thing), which leads me into one
of the points of this post: I’m still snarky and cynical as ever.
“Oh you’re glowing.”
Glowing? Yeah, that could be the excess oil or sweat
on my face but I’m definitely not “glowing.” In fact, I’m going to put this out
there: pregnancy the first
trimester sucks (look I caught myself, aren’t you all proud?). Suddenly you
lose all control of what is happening to your body and become zapped of all
energy. But hey it’s so miraculous that you’re growing this human being inside
of you, right? You mean the alien being that is stealing my blood? Sure. Don’t
get me wrong, I’m so incredibly excited to meet the little nugget and shape it
into a contributing member of society… I just need to get past the first part:
this whole pregnancy thing.
That leads me to my next point: it’s time to own
this whole pregnancy thing, gross or not.
When I was a teenager and hit puberty my body
suddenly decided to stock pile fat. From the age of 16 until I was 21, I was
considered “overweight.” Don’t get me wrong, I was never unhealthy; played
sports all throughout high school and college and ate somewhat healthy. Nevertheless,
there was also an extra couple of pounds that just didn’t make me feel
comfortable. After college I made some lifestyle changes (most notably gave up
eating meat) and ended up losing 40 pounds. Later on I even became a fitness
instructor, teaching others strength and core training.
Fast forward to our decision to have a child and
that realization that “holy shit I’m going to gain back most of that weight.”
And sure enough, I started to gain weight. A lot of it had to do with the fact
that the only thing that seemed to quell my morning sickness was carbs (and
let’s face it, once I found out I was pregnant I turned into the carb version
of cookie monster). Then I hit the mark where suddenly none of my pants fit.
Well they “fit” but that button was begging for its life after a while.
I started to wear dresses, skirts, yoga pants, and
other clothing options that had “give,” all to avoid the dreaded maternity
clothes. Then finally I broke down and got some maternity pants and you know
what? They’re kind of amazing. Actually, not kind of, they ARE amazing. It’s to
the point that I honestly would have no shame wearing these even after my
pregnancy.
Even with all my snarkiness, cynicism, and general
wish to avoid anything cute and/or sappy I am very excited for this next stage.
Still, won’t be posting any sonogram pictures or doing one of those gods awful
maternity shoots – seriously the only pictures of me that would actually be
reminiscent of my pregnancy would include me in yoga pants, eating bread, and
watching Arrow on Netflix. So you know what, I’m gonna gain weight and wear
comfy pants and I’m going to milk every part of it because in the end I’m going
to have an awesome child that I get to corrupt… I mean love and nurture.
