Then the whole puffy thing got me thinking about pregnancy and trying to look cute in pregnancy and actually feeling cute for a little while during our pregnancy ... when at the end, we just feel gross and fat. Really. I have yet to meet a woman who has experienced pregnancy and has not, at some point, felt fat, sore, awkward, or, well, puffy.
Then I began to wonder: Are we supposed to be cute while we're pregnant? Since when?
I mean, don't get me wrong: I'm all about cute clothes and cute looks and trying our best to look cute at all times, even during pregnancy. But, I think that at some point, the focus of pregnancy became, well, pregnancy itself, rather than the baby that pops out at the end of it all. Maternity clothes are suddenly cute, celebs are suddenly traipsing around looking tiny thin with only a little pooch (and a hardcore physical trainer trailing closely behind), and now we're using terms like "baby bump!" and "preggo!". It's almost as if pregnancy has become a trend.
Okay, I know. It might sound crazy. But, think about it--this is very telling of our society anyway, right? The way people pour so much into weddings, for example, without giving a thought to the marriage. It's all about the short-term. Not the realistic long term.
And, really, if we were supposed to be cute while we were pregnant, wouldn't our stomachs get smaller rather than bigger? Wouldn't our cheekbones become more defined rather than sink into our poochy cheeks? I mean, come on! We are just, you know, GROWING A HUMAN BEING.
That is bound to have some sort of outward physical effect, yes?
Not every woman grows to the size of a couch, like I did. And I understand that. But this ideal that we are supposed to be svelte and tiny and not look sleepy and not feel fat while we are pregnant falls right in line with the current idea of beauty, anyway. It's all about how you look--and, most importantly, what other people think of you. If you can convince them that you've got it all together, you've won. When really, pregnancy is the most beautiful thing, regardless of the dark circles and the swollen feet. And the puking. Ohhhhh, the puking.
I'm only eight weeks along and I've got a pooch. This bothered me for about a day until I just tossed my hands in the air and decided to let it go. My body is going to do what it needs to do, regardless of how far along I am, regardless of how much I throw up, regardless of whatever. If that means getting a pooch, then bring on the pooch.
I am, after all, pregnant.