Here’s something I wanted to talk about in a separate post because it involves my baby shower slightly and I didn’t want anyone to think EVEN A LITTLE BIT that I didn’t love every single bit of those few hours with my friends and family.
Because I did. I really, really did.
Afterwards, my dad’s girlfriend sent me a picture of myself. She had taken it when I wasn’t looking, and I was slouched into a chair.
And I. Look. Fat.
Pregnant, yes, but also fat.
My breasts are huge, and my bras aren’t supporting them well anymore. My bras are expensive, and I’m trying to hold off as long as possible before I buy nursing bras, so basically I’m dealing with saggy breasts right now.
My tummy is pregnancy round, but let’s be real here-there’s some fried chicken pudge on there too. My legs are softer than before I got pregnant for sure. My face is rounder. I look pregnant, but I also look fat.
Now, do I think I look fat all the time? No, I don’t. Or at least I didn’t, before I saw that picture.
Even when she sent it to me she said “I know you probably won’t like this, but I thought you might want to have it anyway!”
Umm….really? You KNEW it was an unflattering picture of me that I wouldn’t like but you sent it to me anyway? Ouch. And it sort of sucks, because I’ve been standing up for her a lot with my mom being difficult and bitchy about her all the time. But right now I really resent that. I said back to her “Well, I do feel like I look quite pudgy in it, but that’s okay!”, you know, trying to be nice. Her response was “You’re pregnant-you’re supposed to look pudgy!”
Wow. Tact. Good work.
Anyway, I actually thought I looked really beautiful yesterday. I tried really hard. I put make up on and curled my hair for the first time in months. Everyone told me how pretty I looked, and I loved it. I loved my body yesterday. I loved what it was doing for me, FINALLY.
But all day today….not so much. Oh, I’m still grateful I’m pregnant-do NOT get me wrong. But it’s like all it took was one picture with an unthinking comment to tear me down. And is that okay? No, absolutely not. I should be stronger than that. But all I’ve been able to think about today is that after I’m done being pregnant, then I’ll JUST be fat. At least now I’m pregnant and people can assume it’s just baby belly. Soon…all I’ll have is belly.
The Captain, knowing me quite well, sent me this yesterday-before I had even gotten a chance to tell her about what B (dad’s girlfriend) did. When i told her it was well timed and that I needed it, she told me that I had looked beautiful, and I believe her-because the Captain wouldn’t lie to me.
But how disappointed I am in myself that one picture, one stupid, bad angle shot could tear me down so much. And I’m so mad at myself that I didn’t ask someone else to take pictures at the shower so I’d actually have some-can you believe it? I forgot to get pictures of my own shower. Dumb.
But mostly, I am just mad at myself for not loving my body today, and loving what it’s doing for me. It’s growing my baby girl, the one I have dreamed about for so long. It overcame these awful, impossible odds and got pregnant, and stayed pregnant. And I’ve had a pretty good pregnancy. So here’s me, 33 weeks pregnant, pudgy, pasty, no make-up, didn’t do my hair, awake since 3:30 am (did I mention that my AC is out and my house is hot?), with flabby arms.
But I’m okay with saying that I am beautiful not in spite of my imperfections, but because of them. And I shouldn’t need anyone else to remind me of that.