The title of this post is a direct quote from a woman who walked past me on the beach at Cape Kiwanda, Oregon, a few weeks ago. At the time, I was all of 30 weeks pregnant (3/4 of the way through; about 7+ months pregnant). I felt like rocking her world a little more than I apparently already had, so I replied, "yeah, and I still have TWO MONTHS to go!"
Just doing my civic duty!
I try to let comments like "HOLY PREGNANT!" roll right off my back, but the truth is that stuff like that is why I want to stay inside for the duration of this pregnancy and not see anyone. Because if I don't see anyone, nobody can make comments about my size. See also: why I am really, really dreading going to church on Friday (it will be the first time since we've returned from the US). Church - at least the social side of it - has always been my least favorite place to be in the last month or two of pregnancy, to the point that my very last thought before my water broke early on a Sunday morning with Magdalena was literally "oh my gosh it's Sunday and I have to go to church and face everyone at 40 weeks pregnant and none of my maternity clothes fit me anymore waaaaaaaa."
It is so hard for me to get so big during pregnancy. And I feel like there are not many people who understand that feeling, aside from others who also get very big during pregnancy. Among people who are mothers, there is sometimes an attitude of, "well, I didn't get that big, so what's her problem?" Among people who haven't given birth, there is sometimes an attitude of, "well, the actresses who play pregnant women on TV don't get that big, so what's her problem?" It is a balm to my soul to talk with women whose bodies change as drastically as mine during pregnancy, and commiserate, and escape for a moment from the judgment and misunderstanding (usually not unkindly meant) of others. (And don't get me wrong, there are plenty of lovely women who are tiny during pregnancy themselves but are sensitive to those of us who aren't, and I love them for it.)
When I go to church on Friday, I will try very hard not to punch in the face the first person who makes a comment about how big I am. I will try to smile on the outside, again and again, as the comments roll in, even as I wish I could just walk into church wearing a sign that says:
"Why yes, I AM bigger than the last time you saw me. No, I have not had the baby yet, and in fact, my due date is not for another month! Yes, really! That far away! I know I look "ready to pop," and you cannot imagine how much I love having that phrase applied to me. If you sat down and talked with me about it, I would tell you how each of my three pregnancies have been lived in very different places, where I had different eating habits and foods available to me, different exercise regimens, different jobs and work schedules, etc., and yet the progression of my weight gain/shape change has remained almost exactly the same for each. This is my body, and this is what my body does during pregnancy. That is all."
And now for a picture, actually the only one I have on this computer since I started showing. This is how Bridget does 32 weeks in Rexburg, Idaho. The end.
Except! As long as I'm shocking everyone's sensibilities, I thought of an even more alarming picture to post. It's a picture of me at the hospital in Middlebury, in labor with Magdalena. I know I should be cradling my belly all cute-like, but check it out:
I know some of you are recoiling in horror about now...
...but some of you just gave a fist-bump to your computer screen and whispered, "solidarity." I hear you.
Just doing my civic duty!
I try to let comments like "HOLY PREGNANT!" roll right off my back, but the truth is that stuff like that is why I want to stay inside for the duration of this pregnancy and not see anyone. Because if I don't see anyone, nobody can make comments about my size. See also: why I am really, really dreading going to church on Friday (it will be the first time since we've returned from the US). Church - at least the social side of it - has always been my least favorite place to be in the last month or two of pregnancy, to the point that my very last thought before my water broke early on a Sunday morning with Magdalena was literally "oh my gosh it's Sunday and I have to go to church and face everyone at 40 weeks pregnant and none of my maternity clothes fit me anymore waaaaaaaa."
It is so hard for me to get so big during pregnancy. And I feel like there are not many people who understand that feeling, aside from others who also get very big during pregnancy. Among people who are mothers, there is sometimes an attitude of, "well, I didn't get that big, so what's her problem?" Among people who haven't given birth, there is sometimes an attitude of, "well, the actresses who play pregnant women on TV don't get that big, so what's her problem?" It is a balm to my soul to talk with women whose bodies change as drastically as mine during pregnancy, and commiserate, and escape for a moment from the judgment and misunderstanding (usually not unkindly meant) of others. (And don't get me wrong, there are plenty of lovely women who are tiny during pregnancy themselves but are sensitive to those of us who aren't, and I love them for it.)
When I go to church on Friday, I will try very hard not to punch in the face the first person who makes a comment about how big I am. I will try to smile on the outside, again and again, as the comments roll in, even as I wish I could just walk into church wearing a sign that says:
"Why yes, I AM bigger than the last time you saw me. No, I have not had the baby yet, and in fact, my due date is not for another month! Yes, really! That far away! I know I look "ready to pop," and you cannot imagine how much I love having that phrase applied to me. If you sat down and talked with me about it, I would tell you how each of my three pregnancies have been lived in very different places, where I had different eating habits and foods available to me, different exercise regimens, different jobs and work schedules, etc., and yet the progression of my weight gain/shape change has remained almost exactly the same for each. This is my body, and this is what my body does during pregnancy. That is all."
And now for a picture, actually the only one I have on this computer since I started showing. This is how Bridget does 32 weeks in Rexburg, Idaho. The end.
...but some of you just gave a fist-bump to your computer screen and whispered, "solidarity." I hear you.