The other night, we were channel-surfing, trying to find something to watch that wasn’t Adult Swim or the Kardashians [our preferences vary a little].
Tom left it on HBO for a second, to see what was on, and on the screen was an image of a pregnant woman, undressed, looking at herself in the mirror.
Immediately, I thought about how radiant she looked.. beautiful skin with an amazing full belly… and then I noticed that she was sobbing.
Half of me thought, “Why are you crying? You are absolutely gorgeous.”
Half of me kind of understood [even though the only pregnancy sobbing I’ve done has been of the happiness variety.. or the salad variety].
Of course, I have no idea what the context of the show was –maybe she was crying for a totally unrelated reason? Or maybe her pregnancy was brought on by horrifying or unfortunate circumstances? I have no idea- but it definitely made me think about my own emotions towards my changing and growing body.
I’ve mentioned this briefly before, but I wasn’t quite sure how I’d react to the physical changes pregnancy. I’ve lost a significant amount of weight in the past through healthy eating and exercise, and since then have worked to maintain and improve my muscle density and fitness abilities. Fitness is something I’ve always enjoyed, and the physical benefits are just an added bonus. When I got pregnant, I knew change was on the way and have been happy to roll with it, adjust my workouts as necessary and bask in the happiness that we’re creating a little life.
I’m thankful everyday for the little baby growing in my belly, and everything I’ve experienced I’ve also expected. There would be no way that this could happen and I could keep my pre-pregnancy physical appearance- something I fully understand, relish in the changes, and also accept the fact that it’s temporary.
That’s not to say that it isn’t weird to look in the mirror and see someone you don’t recognize.
I’m in love with my growing belly… especially since I can feel her dance, kick, and playfully bat against my hand. The fuller breasts and thick, long hair are an added bonus, but along with it, I have some stretch marks, wider hips, a fuller face and noticeable muscle definition lost in my back and arms. My jeans still fit me –with a hair tie and Belly Band- but that’s pretty much where it ends on the clothes front.
Even so, most of the time, I feel amazing. I attribute a lot of this to my husband, who makes me feel beautiful everyday. Last night before bed, he kissed me and told me I was his perfect love, and after a day of kind of feeling kind of blah, his words made me forget about it.
The only thing that I think could help me to feel better about the fact that my clothes officially look awkward would be to invest in some maternity pieces. I’ve been fighting it for so long, but it’s time. As much as I like my lulu –the only clothes that still look *right* on me- I think that it would be the final push to kind of feel like myself again.
The clothes thing reminds me of the time when I first started to lose weight in college to get to a healthy weight… I was in the in-between phase, none of my clothes fit, but I wasn’t about to invest in a new wardrobe. I made it work, and that’s what I plan to do now.
In the meantime, I’m going to continue and enjoy the ride, all of the necessary changes that go along with it, and count down the days until our little family is officially bigger. I’m starting to fully understand that all of the things I wondered about before being pregnant (stretch marks! saggy boobs! having to lose weight) seem so petty. Changes are already there with more on the way, I’m more in love with my husband than ever before [which I didn’t think was possible], and once we have our baby girl here (who will hopefully be healthy and happy), it will be such a small price to pay.