Bump

      Being pregnant is an interesting, beautiful experience. It's such a special time in one's life that it is difficult to describe. Sometimes it's funny, often it's uncomfortable and inconvenient but more than anything it is simply amazing. Imagine taking all of your life's hopes, dreams, fears and all of the love in your entire being and smashing it into one, basketball sized globe. Now cover that globe in hot sauce and swallow it whole. That's what it's like being pregnant. Lighting that globe on fire and peeing it out is like delivery. But that's another story for another day.

     I loved my baby bump. I loved that huge belly, filled with such precious cargo. When you struggle with infertility one of the many things that you grieve is that you will never get to see yourself pregnant. You wonder... What would I look like with a belly? What would that feel like?  Would my husband think I look cute pregnant? You wonder what it would feel like to have a little person kick you from within. You mourn these experiences and grieve the loss of those events. You never expect that your chance will ever come.

     But then the day came when I knew that I would in fact get to experience those wonderful sensations for myself and immediately, there was no hiding it. I was one of those women who show immediately. I feel like I looked three months pregnant for about six months before I even conceived. What can I say, I'm an emotional eater.

     That Halloween Jim and I dressed like scary clowns. Halloween is my favorite holiday so of course I had made my costume months in advance, never expecting that I would need to accommodate a baby bump, not to mention the two huge boulders that had sprung out of my bra practically overnight. Getting dressed to go out was the equivalent of stuffing sausage while the rest of my night consisted of dodging shots at the bar and keeping my boobs under control. It was an edge of your seat kind of night all around. A lot of moving parts. A lot to go wrong. But all went well and I took it in stride because honestly, I was just so grateful to be off of the bench and in the game finally.

     That was sort of the theme of my entire pregnancy. Just grateful to be there. Because I struggled for so long, I never feared the weight gain or the physical side effects of pregnancy. It's hard to complain about something that you have been actively pursuing for years and fully expected to never have the opportunity to experience.

     Because I had a belly right away and so early in my pregnancy people asked me constantly if I thought I could be having twins. Early on this idea was a charming, exciting conversation. Twins?! How fun!! Especially since we were pretty sure this was going to be our only pregnancy, how cool would it be to end up with a two for one?! The further along I got into my pregnancy however, the question became more than a little irritating. Pregnancy Tourette's kicked in quite a few times in my last trimester while answering this repeated question. On a particularly bloated day nearing my due date I found myself snap at an older woman who asked me this question about three times per week, “you know what, it makes me feel really f-ing good to answer that question every f-ing day,” I remarked that sunny, June afternoon. She just kind of looked at me and I just walked away, a mix of embarrassment and satisfaction brewing in my soul. It was the last time she asked me about my pregnancy. Probably for the best. I can't imagine my answers getting more appropriate with time.

     Over the months I kept thinking that there was no way I could get any bigger, but bigger and bigger and bigger I got. There were plenty of upsides to getting bigger though. Of course, it meant my little bean was growing. Wonderful news. But I also loved how nice everyone was when they saw that huge belly come lumbering in their direction. Complete strangers smiled and asked me about my baby. They wanted to know if it was a boy or a girl, and when he was due. Did I have any names picked out? The usual questions. I felt myself glowing every time I answered them. I liked how excited everyone got to discuss a new baby. A new life on this Earth. I think the sight of a pregnant belly gives a feeling of hope. Unless of course you are actively trying to conceive. Then it is less hopey and more ragey. But for the most part I think it gives people hope for the future and at a very core level hope for the continuation of the species. I think we are programed to like pregnant bellies for this reason.

     The bigger I got the more fantastic things I discovered. Number one and still champion among these are maternity pants. I loved them then and to be completely honest, I still rock the pregnancy pants. One, it is nice for breastfeeding, because they go up so high. That way when I lift my shirt up to nurse Archer my whole flabby belly doesn't have to greet society in addition to my boob. And two, they feel like they were woven by God's own hands, made from the wool of his personal lamb.

     Another fun part of finding yourself in a delicate position is pregnancy brain. I remember one night, sick to death of wearing high heels I went to Target to buy flats. That's the only thing that I needed. Comfortable shoes. I spent a great deal time trying on shoes until found a pair that I loved. I put my old shoes back on and walked around the rest of the store picking up a few loose ends. Then I went through the check out and drove home, supremely happy with my purchase. I got home, told Jim how much I loved the shoes that I had found and decided to show them to him. No shoes. Not in my bag, not in my car. I looked on the receipt and nope, I didn't buy shoes. Just picked them out and apparently laid them down somewhere in the store and left. Pregnancy brain is fun because you feel like you live in a riddle. You know there is some sense to it all, but damned if you can find it with both hands.

     I hear a lot of women complain about people touching their pregnant bellies and while I completely get it, I have to say that it never really bothered me unless it was a creepy man. I had many female clients who would touch my belly but that never bothered me. I was excited and it felt good to know that they were excited for me too. It felt supportive more than invasive. I would get mad however, when a guy would see me struggling with a door and my big belly and not help. Unfortunately that happened often also.

     I took pictures of my growing belly every month. Of course, I looked on Pinterest first and saw all of the cute ways that pregos around the world were document their respective bellies. I liked and pined all of them, and then proceeded to take the crappiest, most half assed pictures of my entire life. I'm not sure why, but I suspect complete laziness. Usually when I took the pictures I didn't even have make up on so I would cut my head off. They ended up sort of looking like a police line up of whales that held up a bank. But they served the purpose. Documentation that regardless of how my belly looks now, it's still flatter than that.

     I liked to dress to show off my belly, partly because I was just so happy to have it and partly because I think bellies are cute. Even pregnant though, I think everyone wants to think that they are smaller than they actually are. It felt so good to stuff myself into a size small shirt and prance around thinking, “look, I'm not that big” as it's tensile seams held on for dear life.

     My size was only partly Archer's fault. I would treat myself to ice cream after every doctors appointment. It was my reward for staying within my healthy weight expectation for the month. How's that pregnancy logic for you? Weight under control? Perfect, I'll take a cookie dough blizzard with chocolate ice cream please.

     I loved feeling like I was more able to protect my little bean when he was in my belly. The thought of him walking around in the world separate from me scared me to death. I was not one of those women who can't wait to have their babies and hold them. I was the exact opposite. The closer it got to my due date the scarier it got for me that I would not be able to shield him from the world like I could during pregnancy. He must have been afraid too because he was two weeks late when I was finally talked into being induced.

     I loved resting my hands on my big belly during sessions and laying on my side at night in bed at first feeling and then later seeing my babies strong little movements just under my skin. I loved everything inside of that belly so much that it would have been impossible to do anything other than flaunt it. And then, all of the sudden it got to the point where it was crazy big. Scary big. By the time I waddled up to the hospital to be induced I felt like my belly was in an orbit all it's own. Thirty hours later, it was empty and my belly was just a belly again. Still big, but without it's special little passenger inside. I fully anticipated that I would leave the hospital with very little belly. Spoiler alert, that's not at all how that works. Seven months later and I still have a belly that I enjoy resting my hands on. When I lay in bed my little bean lays next to me, kicking my belly from the outside now. I hold his little feet and rub his chubby elbows and remind myself that these were the little bumps that I felt for all of those months. I still worry about keeping him safe but I am learning to accept that letting go is just a part of being a mommy. Preparing this little person for independence in this often unpredictable world around him is a big part of my job for the next eighteen years. But I will always cherish the nine months that he and I shared as one entity. He may have left my belly, but he will be in my heart for all of eternity.