I had a completely different piece in mind to mark my 30th week of pregnancy.
But something else popped up and I’m going to have to address it.
I helped someone today that said this to me “how come other people look cute pregnant and me… and you… just look huge?”
I’ll let that soak in for a minute.
This isn’t the first time a customer has said something to me that couldn’t be interpreted as anything other than an insult. When I was pregnant with Hudson a customer actually scoffed when I mentioned my pre-pregnancy size.
Now, what was my hormone-charged reaction to this woman telling me I look huge instead of cute?
Well, I laughed. Because it was funny. And I told her that other people looked cute because they were the one who is pregnant and not you and that we always judge ourselves (and apparently sales people) differently.
I’m 30 weeks pregnant. I’m quickly on my way to outweighing my husband, I have dimples in places that aren’t cute, and just holding up a pair of jeans two sizes larger than my regular size I can already tell they’d be too tight.
Compared to non-pregnant me, I am huge.
And you know what? I’m totally okay with that. I feel great about how I look, which is why what she said really didn’t bother me.
I work with a lot of women, and I am always shocked how many women seem to truly hate their pregnant bodies. It seems that at least once a day I hear someone say “I’m just so fat”.
To which I usually say “Stop.”
Just stop. This will not help you. And besides, you’re completely missing the point.
Now there are extremes on either end, some people who gain too much and people who gain too little, but for the average pregnant lady (who always seem to be the most critical) I look at it like this:
Marathon runners are much less broad, they are lean and spindly, they need to be light and muscular to carry their weight for long distances.
Olympic weight lifters have very biceps of course but also large quads to stabilize themselves as they lift over 500lbs of weight.
And you’re going to need a few extra dimples on your butt to grow a strong and healthy baby.
This process and the day you give birth, what you and your body will be nothing short of an Olympic feat. So take it easy on the self-criticism –at least temporarily.
So, no I won’t be winning any bikini contests any time soon (never won one not pregnant so it’s not a hard loss). And, yeah, it’s a bummer when even your pajama pants are tight. But I’m not about to be the one turning to the person next to me on the climb up Mt. Everest asking “Does this snow suit make my butt look big?”.
Because I’ll miss the view from the mountain.
And I’ll ruin the journey.
And I’ll stop myself from enjoying something that most people only get to do a few times in their life– if they are lucky. Some people never get to do it at all.
And who knows… Maybe being able to accept (maybe even love) your pregnant body… you might be able to make a few steps in forgiving that non-pregnant body too.