Donut Pants to Go With My Muffin Top

Now that Scout weighs 13 pounds, I discovered carrying Scout in one arm and holding up my maternity pants with the other would soon no longer be feasible.

With 15 pregnancy pounds still lingering, mostly in my hips and thighs, I went shopping for new clothes.

I just came home with jeans and shorts, but I’m considering going back for these doughnut pants.

Not feeling the doughnuts? There were cheeseburger pants as well.

Please tell me you’ve seen someone wearing these or something similar.

What’s Your Definition of “Big?”

Throughout my pregnancy, people and doctors have said, “You can’t be that many weeks! You’re not big enough!”

I’ve officially gained 40 pounds, I feel like my stomach may explode, and the other day I asked Kiefer to put my shoes on for me.

A photographer friend asked me to model for some maternity pics once my “tummy popped.”

I think my tummy has popped.

And I’m only going to get bigger because I still have 2 weeks to go.

The maternity pictures were hard for me. I didn’t do the traditional tummy picture every week. I didn’t even let Kiefer take a tummy pic until I was 3.5 weeks from my due date.

Why? Because my current pregnancy weight is what I weighed my sophomore year of high school.

When you’ve been overweight, any weight gain—even for a wonderful event like pregnancy—is hard to stomach. It’s hard to…

• Feel your old clothes get tight.
• Feel your new clothes get tight.
• Hear people say, “Oh…are you pregnant? I had no idea,” at the beginning of your third trimester because that means they spent the previous 6 months thinking you were just getting fat.
• Feel even remotely attractive.

But seeing myself in those maternity pics…I get it.

I don’t see a huge tummy or massive thighs or feet so swollen my ankles are almost gone. I see a mommy-to-be. And I see a baby in that belly.

Just to clarify, it’s a baby I grew, not one that I ate.

Favorite Comment From Last Post: “Get some. That is why everyone gets a car.”—ChocChipGuru

If you’re in the DC Metro area and need pictures, check out Baby Face Photo. Amy is great!

Put Your Feet Up…Way Up

In the middle of this pregnancy, I switched to an office with doctors and midwives. At first, I was skeptical because I worried the midwives would push the all-natural approach.

Positive: The midwife would stay throughout the entire labor instead of popping in and out. They don’t discourage drugs, and they get the doctor if complications arise.

Positive: Upon telling the midwife that my stepsons were born at home and I had no intention of doing that, she said, “Don’t worry. We deliver babies in a hospital…which I will drive to in my car…not ride up to on my horse.”

Negative: The first midwife I met called me fat.

Then I began to worry that all midwives did was criticize my weight. The next few appointments went like this:

• “Your weight gain since the last appointment is a little on the high side, but it’s nothing to be worried about. Plus, Thanksgiving was in there.”
• Nothing said about my weight at the next appointment.
• Again, nothing said about weight.
• “You’ve only put on 2 pounds since your last appointment. Nice job!”
• And at yesterday’s appointment: “You’ve lost 2 pounds.” That was thanks to the cold I had this week, which is why the blog was especially quiet.

Now I suspect they may just be saying nice things because of how fragile pregnant women are in the last few weeks.

• “That you’re still exercising is good. That’ll help during labor.”
• “How tall are you? Taller women usually have an easier labor.”
• “Your baby won’t be huge. Maybe 8.5 pounds.”

And my favorite:

Me: My feet are starting to swell.

Her: That’s totally normal at this stage. Just put your feet up.

Me: I do that. I sit down and watch movies and fold laundry.

This is the incorrect way to put your feet up.

Her: No. You need to LAY down and have your feet above your heart.

Me: But then I can’t fold laundry…or do anything.

Her: Exactly.

A prescription/order to do nothing and be lazy. I love it.

Also from yesterday’s appointment: 0 cm dilated and 50% effaced at 37 weeks. That’s not the 8 cm and 80% I was hoping for, but I’ll take it.

Things You Shouldn’t Say to Your Pregnant Wife

When Kiefer returned from his two-week trip….

Kiefer: Wow…your tummy….

Thoughtsy: Yeeeeeeah. It exploded while you were gone.

Kiefer: It’s just that 2 weeks ago you were barely showing…and now…. You know I’d never say this to you if you weren’t pregnant, but your baby bump got big!

Thoughtsy: Did you just call me fat?

31-Week Baby Bump

—

The baby is squishing my tummy. That means I can only eat small portions, but that also means I’m eating all the time.

Kiefer: Every time I see you you’re eating something.

Thoughtsy: Seriously? I hate you.

—

Thoughtsy: Are you freaking out yet?

Kiefer: Nope.

Thoughtsy: You know we only have like 2 months left, right?

Kiefer: Now I’m freaking out.

Thoughtsy: I’m pretty sure only one of us is allowed to freak out. And I already called, “Dibs.”

—

This one wasn’t by Kiefer, but I thought I’d throw it in anyways. I went to Walmart (my mistake) to shop for cheap maternity clothes.

Thoughtsy: Excuse me, miss? Do you have a maternity section?

Walmart Worker: Yep. Right there on the end.

She sent me to the Plus-Sized section. Yeaaaaah…not the same thing.

I’m Not Fat. I’m Pregnant.

I’m not fat. I’m pregnant.

I have to tell myself that every day. And I’ve only now begun to believe it.

I’ve always struggled with my weight. When I was younger, I was fat. End of story.

The summer before my senior year, something miraculous happened. I dropped 45 pounds in 3 months. I don’t know how. I didn’t even realize I’d lost weight until a friend picked me up to spin me around and his back didn’t break.

The weight stayed off for years…until I started dating Mephistopheles. I put 15-20 pounds back on. After we broke up, I lost the weight, and at age 26,  I was back at my senior year of high school weight.

Who could still wear her prom dress? This gal!

Then I got pregnant. And my clothes slowly started to get tight…and then not fit at all. I cried.

At 24 weeks, I’ve gained 21 pounds. I’m not supposed to have put on more than 18.

And it doesn’t matter how many times people say:

• You’re pregnant: you’re supposed to put on weight.
• Don’t worry. It’ll come off when you breastfeed.
• I’m pretty sure half of that weight is in your boobs.
• You look like what I look like now, and I’m not pregnant.
• You were small before, so you need to put on a few extra pounds.
• The doctor told you not to exercise your first trimester, so that’s expected.

None of it makes me feel better right now.

You know what else doesn’t make me feel better? When midwives say, “How much weight have you put on? Mmm-hmm. A normal pregnancy is only 25-35 pounds…. You don’t want to have a really big baby because that means you’ll need a C-section.”

Responses (in my head) to this included:

• After 2 miscarriages, I don’t care how big the baby is. I just care that she’s alive.
• My cat weighs 9 pounds. If the baby is smaller than that, I won’t know what to do with her.
• After 9 months, I don’t think I’ll care how she comes out as long as she does.

Favorite Comment From Last Post: “We still don’t know how the “Sprint unlimited for life” applies to zombies.”—Dana