Have you ever seen those scrolling message things? The ones that you can program a message and it will scroll in LED lights? Anyhow, I never really wanted one until I thought about all the stuff I wish I could just blast from it if I hung one around my neck.
Here are a few of the messages I wish I could blast and/or real feelings I wish I could say at any given point. I haven’t gotten to the point where people are touching my belly, but I think I would want that tattooed on my chest instead of a sign around my neck.
So here we go, in no particular order…
1. I’m not fat, I’m pregnant.
I always knew that I would wait to announce my pregnancy until I was past the 1st trimester, just like everyone in the entire world tells you to do. What these people who tell you this graciously leave out, however, is that once you’re in the “safe zone” of telling people you’re pregnant you magically land in the “you look fat and not particularly pregnant” zone. This zone lasts…apparently…for.ev.er. Once the news is out, though, I don’t want to just go around telling random people I’m pregnant, because that would be weird, but I also don’t particularly want people to think that I just flat out don’t care anymore, either.
Actually looking pregnant instead of “ooh, you must really enjoy pie.” is basically the ideal, but takes forever. (Of course I do really enjoy pie, it’s just that I’m enjoying it for two now, okay?!…except…I’m not. See below.) The actual “look adorable in maternity clothes” stage is frighteningly short, for everyone who actually is keeping track.
2. Yes, you can still drink around me.
If you don’t, I’ll be sad. Wine is delicious. Please don’t stop on account of me.
3. Even if you qualify your advice as unsolicited, it is still unsolicited advice.
I feel like a few years ago, people just gave unsolicited advice. Now they still do that, only they seem to want to qualify it with, “I know this is unsolicited advice but…and then go on telling you whatever advice they feel like giving as if the qualifier and recognition suddenly make them on the inside. I appreciate your recognition that the advice you are giving is unsolicited and potentially controversial as recognition is, in fact, the first step to recovery, but, alas, the next step is honestly to stop.
Do I know everything? Um, have you read anything I’ve ever written? Obviously I know approximately nothing. However, I do ask a lot of people a lot of questions and do a lot of reading on my own. If I want advice I can promise you I will pester you with questions until your ears bleed.
4. My doctor said it was okay to drink coffee and it is quite possibly one of the only things in my life that makes me truly and undeniably happy consistently.
Stop asking if it’s decaf. It’s probably not. I have asked my doctor, read research articles about coffee and caffeine limits during pregnancy. In the mornings I don’t care if it’s a drug that more addicting than crack chemically. The bottom line is this: coffee. makes. me. happy. Is too much caffeine bad for you while pregnant? Yes, just like too much caffeine is bad for you when you aren’t pregnant. Is too much anything bad for you while pregnant? See above re: caffeine and non-pregnancy.
I will continue to drink coffee unless the doctor finds something wrong and tells me I can’t. And in that case, I shall replace coffee with my tears.
5. I’m not really eating for two, but I appreciate the kind thought.
No, I really shouldn’t be eating the equivalent of two peoples’ food, though I have probably eaten the equivalent of 100 peoples’ Funfetti cake. Unless I have suddenly turned into a person the size of an apple, I only need to eat a little bit more, as that is the size of the extra person on board. But I shall take your comment instead as, “you don’t look unhealthy!” which I am striving for daily.
However, this comment leads me to…
6. Yes, I know your [aunt/sister/cousin/coworker/boss/female person you saw on the street that one time 2 years ago] carried the pregnancy in her rear. No, of course I don’t want that to happen to me.
I think this comment has shocked me most of all. I am already terrified of carrying the child entirely on my hindside (as it appears) but you know what? I exercise, I try to eat well (if you mention Wendy’s Frosties to me right now we will not speak again), but you know what? Sometimes people have, gasp, different genes. If that happens, well, so be it! If it doesn’t, good! But at this point the only thing I can do is what I’m already doing. So those comments really just baffle me as there is nothing that can be done if that baby and your genes tell you that your ass is to be the size of Wisconsin, then by god…it will be. And life will go on.
This comment leads me to my final baffling comment I still have no answer for…
7. Have you seen [celebrity/friend with the metabolism of a hummingbird] 2 weeks after she had her baby? She looks AMAZING!
Good for her? I am truly happy for these people who manage to look like they didn’t have a baby the second the baby has arrived, but for the rest of us, that’s just not probably going to happen. Did I look like that person before pregnancy? No, probably not. I just don’t have that body type, and so while I will try to “bounce back” as soon as possible, I also realize that if I’m not a celebrity whose literal full time job is to look amazing or someone you know who can eat 2 large pizzas, lose a pound and still forever be the skinniest person you know…I probably won’t look like them post-baby. Life changes and goes on. I assume I’ll be exhausted, tired, and frustrated. Knowing that I will be compared to celebrities and friends with ridiculous metabolisms is not only unfair but just plain scary. It’s pretty much like comparing apples and skyscrapers…it just doesn’t work, nor is it a good use of time.