“Oh, you’re starting to look chubby!” she said, and gave my belly a little poke.
I actually minded the poking a lot less than I minded the word she used to describe my swelling middle.
CHUBBY.
“You don’t tell a pregnant woman she looks chubby,” I commented to my friend as the other woman walked away.
Weight gain in pregnancy is such a contentious issue…I really had no idea. Pregnant women know they’re supposed to gain weight. We expect it. After all, the combination of baby, fluids, breast tissue and fat stores adds up to about 30 pounds.
I lost weight in the beginning of my pregnancy, mostly due to the gall bladder attack I had and the dietary restrictions that accompanied it. Not eating fat for about a month meant no cheese, little dairy, and even easy on the meat. I ended up losing seven pounds in that month of healing. The crazy women on the pregnancy and baby boards wouldn’t like to hear about that. Now that I’m eating a fairly normal diet again and the baby is really starting to grow, my shape is beginning to transform in a substantial way.
My mom asked me a couple of days ago how I felt about my changing body. This is something I’ve given some thought to over the last few weeks. For the most part, I really love my little baby belly. It’s been described as “cute” on more than one occasion, which is nice, I guess, but sometimes feels a little bit condescending. It’s just so unnerving to suddenly have a part of my body, a part that was never given a second thought before, was never noticed or highlighted in any way, be so obviously different.
When I approach tables at the restaurant where I work now, the eyes of the customers sitting there dart first to my belly, then my face. When I catch my reflection in the mirror, I am taken aback by what I see. Other days I stand in front of the mirror and rub the spot where I imagine the baby’s little bum is, and give my belly a little hug. I figure that is no more nutty than reading to the baby or playing music for it before it’s born. In utero hugging is the next trend in baby therapy, I’m telling you…
Then there are the moments when the glimpse of my growing belly is slightly terrifying. There’s no pretending now that I’m not getting bigger. The baby only weighs about a pound at this point. What am I going to look like when the baby weighs seven or eight or *gulp* nine pounds? Will I ever get my body back after he or she is born? Will I still feel like myself? Will I still look like the person I was before I became a mother? I have a sneaking suspicion that the answer, whether sadly or gloriously (I haven’t yet decided), is no.
And I guess that’s why the word “chubby” got to me. I’m not chubby. I’m just becoming a mom.
Chubby. Never heard that one.
Funny thing about being pregnant. You aren’t just “you” any more, you are an amalgam. A walking talking two-person entity. That’s what I found so odd when I was pregnant. It’s true, you will never be the same, and it’s also true that you *already* aren’t! You’ve got people poking you in the tummy and saying you are chubby, and they mean it in a *positive* way. How weird is that?
But it’s not just you they are poking, they are poking *both* of you. I think when people get invasive and protective and curious about pregnant women, they are actually manifesting their awe of mother nature. The miraculous thing that women can do: growing a New Human Being Inside their Body! Yow! It’s the magical thing that is happening in you and in all pregnant women that have ever existed. So just bask in that glory. And get lots of naps.
There is no end of tactless people out there. However, you are far from “chubby”. And for every “somewhat off” comment you get, you’ll get tons more compliments. Repeat those to yourself when you remember.
For me, chubby means cute and adorable
that’s why I really don’t mind when somebody left a remark for me that I am chubby (when I was pregnant).
and yes, your perceptions about yourself will somehow change after giving birth but it does not mean that you will look less better. Actually, you will become a better person in and out when you finally becomes a mother.
I once read that pregnancy is simultaneously the most public and most personal thing you will ever experience. You’re growing and showing beautifully, Ames xox
Oh and now it starts: not the obsessing about weight, but, rather, that uneasy feeling that you’re changed in some fundamental way. You’re not sure how it happened, or, maybe you are sure how it happened but now that it’s happening, you’re different in a way that you didn’t expect or are being treated in a way that you’re not used to or are feeling feelings, seeing images in the mirror, that you just simply do not recognize from anything that comes before.
Get used to this discomfort. It hits you in a new way the whole way along this journey — I’m four years in, if you count the time since I became pregnant, and I’m startled and discomfited still, all the damn time. But oh, it has been worth it.
Also, pragmatically, your body will gain the weight it needs to. Everyone mocked me for gaining 50 pounds (yeah, that’s right), including my mother in law, but I seriously could not stop eating everything in sight. And Munchkin was actually a lean baby (just all over very tall and very strong) and I lost it all poof. Let your body lead you, and you’ll be fine.
For the rest, let your heart lead you, and see if you can try to keep up. Hugs.