Many women can't wait to wear maternity clothes and proudly display their beautiful baby bump. They welcome check-out line conversations and strangers on the train offering their seats. They love to talk about their due date, the name they've picked, their future baby's gender, and the cute clothes they have perfectly pressed hanging in their closet.
I, on the other hand, would prefer to keep my bump under wraps and I disguise myself as a fat chick for as long as I possibly can. Am I alone?
If you're chunky, no one in their right mind would EVER comment on your body. I use this concept as a way to avoid stranger conversation. I'm now seven months pregnant, and my days of riding the fine line between thick chick and fragile pregnant lady are over.
I walked into a furniture story yesterday and the saleswoman walked up to me and asked me how I was feeling. Not her business. She also told me I looked beautiful. Lies. I miss the days of riding the cusp where no one had the balls to ask me if I was pregnant even if they suspected it.
The big-boned state of mind also gives me permission to have that second piece of banana bread. Cream cheese? Yes, please. Full fat? Fine.
Maybe if I were one of those super-thin preggo women whom I hate but want to be, I'd be more into the comments. The problem is that I already feel like I'm the size of Rhode Island, so I'd like to wallow alone in my misery.
It's just another of those situations where being pregnant makes you public domain and it bothers me.
Am I being a bitter fat chick?
Image via Johnny A. 2nd/Flickr