Does This Baby Make My Butt Look Big?

I can't tell you how many times I've encouraged my sweet, plump, girlfriends about their weight gain during pregnancy.  "It'll come off, don't worry."  "Go with it.  If ever you can enjoy your round self, it's now."  "You're gorgeous!"


It's amazing how easy it is to give advice.


In my first two pregnancies I spent the first 14 or so weeks throwing up.  Even spent some time in the hospital with the twins.  Yet, I still managed to gain the high end of the recommended weight both times.  This pregnancy brought the nausea as well, but no where near as bad.  I was able to manage it by eating... ALL THE TIME.  I gained a good portion of my weight in those first 12 weeks.  Then the baked goods cravings started.  I was powerless.



When I'm pregnant, I do it up right; pregnant arms, face, butt, feet.  I'm one of those puffy, worn, preggies that sit on the bench in the mall, smoothy in hand, glaring at the spunky toothpicks-for-limbs, 20-something pregnant anomalies walking in and out of Motherhood maternity stores.  You know, the ones we like to say aren't realistic until they step out of the magazine and into my doctor's office.


My doctor isn't concerned with my weight gain.  Why doesn't that relieve me more?  


The kids are helpful.  It's really fun to experience pregnancy with two pre-adolescents and a teenager.  "Hey Mom, do that triple chin thing again!"  "That swim suit doesn't look right."  *Sigh*  "You look fine.  You look like.. a.. mom..." (heard in my head as nightmarish echos).


This all flies in the face of my ideals.  I'm very pro REAL woman.  I hate the obscene expectations put on society (especially females) to be super-stars.  I think retailers would be surprised at the influx of business they'd see if they marketed apparel to flatter human people.  It would be so much easier to select clothes if the manikin used to model them was a size 8 or 10 as opposed to size 10-year-old-boy.

**In Theory**

Truth be told, I buy into it far more than I'd like to admit.  Sometimes it's hard to distinguish the line between expressing myself as a creative individualist, and being motivated by feeling "not good enough".  I am not opposed to dying hair (obviously) or buying fun clothes, painting nails, or even plastic surgery (especially to repair real damage done).  Those things can make us feel good; like we're taking care of ourselves; like we think we're worth it.  But when it's done because Susie is skinnier, blonder, richer... then it is degrading.  It's no longer about who I am as a person but who she is and who I am not.

Anyway, back to my butt.  As difficult as it is, I have made a determination to accept my maternal right to be soft right now.  Embrace it.  It requires forcing my mind in the opposite direction when the self-loathing sets in.  Retraining the grooves of thought.  

I do LOVE certain aspects of my roundness.  My belly mainly.  I think I have appreciated the gift of pregnancy so much more this time around since I never thought I'd be here again.  I love feeling him thump about.  I'm not as eager to get him out as I was with the others.  This time is so short and I'm so lucky to be given this miracle of an opportunity.  I love and accept my belly.  I will learn to love the rest of me as well.

Watch out, Barbie dolls, cause 

Baby Got Back!!