A Weighty Issue

I'm starting to annoy Josh with this, so I'll try to articulate my feeling on here.

Here is yesterday in my brain:

9:00 - I'm STARVING. Eats mountain of cereal.

11:00 - My bump looks really tiny today.

11:15 - Nurse Practitioner weighs me at routine appointment. I haven't gained any weight in the last month. She says I should probably talk to midwife.

12:00 - Home again. Google "small for dates."

1:00 - STARVING again. Eats baked potato with butter and sour cream and sandwich.

3:00 - Exhausted from research. Look at bump in mirror. Bump looks ginormous now! What is up with that? Read about weight gain in every baby book in the house. Eat a piece of peanut brittle. Take a nap.

5:00 - Wake up starving again. Look in mirror again. Salivate over Missoni for Target clothes. Try to find a cute maternity outfit online. Find THIS instead:

She's thinking: "I'm going to have to get naked to pee."

Give up.

6:00 - Feed the cat. Eat bowl of carrot soup with a bread roll. Make butterscotch Delight (a puddingy type, whipped creamish dessert). Promise to eat half so hubs can have some when he gets home. Eat 88% of bowl.

8:00 - Terrible indigestion. I'm definitely horribly fat now. Still looking a clothes on the internet. Find another abomination:

Seriously, who decided rompers and jumpsuits were appropriate for pregnant ladies?

11:00 - Have a glass of milk and go to bed with enormous baby bump. Stop worrying (for a little while at least).

I guess that my biggest pet peeve was that I always thought that pregnancy was the one time in your life when you can stop obsessing over your body for health reasons, all the while wearing a muumuu and eating whole tubs of ice cream on the sofa. Now, not only do I have to exercise (but within reasonable parameters), I am not allowed to eat for two (dammit), and I have to look sexy while doing it.

This lady's water just broke, and she's clearly still up for it and wearing a thong.

I thought pregnancy was for lazing around while wearing big shirts and stretchy pants, but now, I can't even get away from SPANX for nine whole months.

Frankly, this looks like a torture device.

For someone with any body image issues at all (I think that's probably most women), pregnancy is a weird time. All the guidebooks say: "Your body is beautiful! You're growing a person!" Whereas, my brain says: "Getting fatter goes against everything you've ever learned from any magazine, book, snarky high school girl, movie or tv show ever. You are supposed to be sexy, even when you're feeling bloated and gassy. Victoria Beckham slipped a disc in her back so she could look good while pregnant."

It's certainly a weighty issue, indeed.