Embracing the Belly

So getting pregnant has come at an interesting time for me. Right before I got pregnant I weighed the most I ever had and wasn't too happy about it. I went from under 110 about four years ago to 130 in June. On top of that I wasn't dancing anymore, my main form of exercise, so in addition to being heavier, I'd also lost a lot of muscle tone I was used to having.

This was the first time I'd had to deal with a weight issue in my  life. Usually because I was fairly active and ate reasonably, I'd go up and down a few pounds easily and never cared. I remember when I hit the 110 mark when I was 30 it was a big deal because I finally weighed enough to donate blood!

So, at first I thought it was kinda funny, this little "pooch" I had. Then, when I started to look less than great in some of my clothing, it wasn't so funny, and also wasn't so easy to lose either like it used to be. I got a little self conscious about it, made sure to suck in my gut during photos and the like. I also didn't like how out of shape I had become and how low my endurance was. I had to watch what I wore or risk being one of "those girls" I'd made fun of with the tight low rise jeans and high rise tops and a bakery item in between. Many might say it would serve me right, and I'd probably have to agree.


Then, thanks to the wonders of constant morning sickness and nausea, I lost 13 lbs. Yea! I was relatively skinny again! All those low rise jeans looked good on me again and my face was noticeably more slender. Of course the irony was that I was now too exhausted and sick to really care, plus I lacked the energy or interest in getting dressed up to go out and wear my skinny clothes again... pj's were the wardrobe of choice for me and they all had an elastic waist that didn't matter if I gained or lost 20 pounds.

Now, at 17 weeks pregnant, I've got a belly. Not a pooch or a gut, but a belly. My waist size is now equal to my bra size and I'm loving it! I've gone from hiding my stomach to highlighting it with form fitting tops and sweaters. I think it's just big and "basketball" shaped (round and out front instead of wide and all over) enough to be obvious that I'm pregnant and not fat. But you know, even if someone does mistake me for being fat, I don't care because I know the truth.

It's a very liberating feeling, wanting to show off something that I was hiding not too long ago. This new found love I've got for the changing shape of my body is comforting and I'm enjoying it. There are so many other things about being pregnant that I haven't enjoyed, and this has come as a nice surprise. It helps a lot that my husband also loves my belly and is constantly telling me how sexy he thinks I am. I'm also fairly confidant that I will lose all the weight once I give birth... eventually. I probably won't be as happy with the post baby body as I am with the pre, but I'll deal with that when the time comes.

I wish that all women could feel as happy and confident with their body as I do right now. Of course being slender and pregnant is different from being fat and not pregnant, but I still think it's an empowering experience and feeling to have.

I know I will look back on this post in a few short months when I'm waddling around the house trying to find a pair of shoes I can slip on because I can't reach my feet to tie anything, and finding things that will stretch over my much bigger belly will be a constant battle... and I will laugh, and it will make me pee my pants a little, and I'll have to heave my bulk off the couch to go to the bathroom. Until then, I'll enjoy it while I can.

Death and Destruction in the Nursery

I believe having a relatively toxic-free environment for a newborn is somewhat important. That's one of the reasons why we had the nursery painted and the floors refinished in April so that hopefully all the off-gassing would be done by when ever we got around to procreating. I've been opting for organic things where possible, as long as they don't need to be hand washed by virgins in angel's tears or some such nonsense. So far, so good, right? Hah! Foolish and arrogant girl!

Brooke was out of town for the weekend on a Porsche guy road trip (of course this would happen then). I was finally feeling well enough and motivated enough to do some housework and then start working on the pile of boxes in the nursery. I cleaned up the kitchen, including the big mess of cinnamon and ant bait poison for our on-going ant problem. No ants had been seen in awhile so I finally cleaned it up... feeling that as soon as I did the little bastards would reappear. Oh how true that suspicion would prove to be!

Ants in kitchen prior to Antpocalypse

Then I go upstairs to start on the nursery and look for some ribbon to hang some art (our house has picture rails everywhere) and at some point while I'm digging through the box I realize I'm standing in the middle of this HUGE mess of ants! Yeah, they had reappeared all right, in a big trail going diagonally across the entire nursery, from behind one big pile of boxes to behind another big pile of boxes.

I'll spare you all the sordid details, but suffice to say there was some frantic vacuuming, much swearing and sweating (my formerly cozy flannel pj's became a damp, stifling, shroud), shoving of piles of boxes, more vacuuming, and finally a hosing down of the room of bug spray when it just seemed like they were everywhere! Even had a bag of new baby clothes fall over onto the bug spray covered floor. Nifty.

Finally located the offending box (I think) they were after... not a forgotten chocolate bar or bag of chips, it was my special effect makeup, most likely some fake blood which is basically just corn syrup and coloring (which is kinda creepy if you think abut it as my friend Matt said, vampire ants!). I pushed the large, heavy box down the stairs and thank god for my awesome neighbors... when I appeared all sweaty in my PJ's on their back porch panting and asking for help with my ant emergency they carried the box down to the basement where I doused it with bug spray.

So, now my nursery makes me gag when I walk into it, is covered in poison and stuff thrown everywhere, and we have a house guest showing up on Sunday who is supposed to sleep in there. Oy.

I seriously believe these things are just Nature's way of testing me and trying to prepare me to be a better parent. I almost lost it a few times, but in the end seemed to have triumphed (for now... the paid professionals will be coming to make sure we keep that advantage) with no tears or puking, though it was close on both counts. Glad we still have five months to get the room cleaned up and aired out!

Wait... only five months?!!? Holy crap, I can't believe we're almost at the half way point!!! Aggghhhhhh!