Archive for June 17, 2010

I Am Not Ashamed

I officially have the pregnant chick waddle. You know what it looks like, it’s nothing new. You can see a normal looking woman from the back but know she’s pregnant by the way she waddles. That’s me. I can walk normal, it’s just not as comfortable. It seems to take more focus, more work, more determination. I’m just not into that. I’d rather waddle.

You can judge me if you’d like, it doesn’t hurt my feelings. In fact, there is a woman at work that mumbles “waddle waddle waddle” as I walk by her and I don’t even want to punch her in the face. Why? Because it’s the truth and it’s nothing to be ashamed of. You try carrying approximately 25 pounds on the front of your body and walk like nothing is different. It just doesn’t work like that.

I also have a bit of a problem with my clothes. Maternity clothes aren’t that uncomfortable when you compare them to regular clothes with buttons and waistlines. But when you compare them to large elastic things or flowy dresses, there is just no contest. On the weekends I live in cotton dresses but if I’m not going anywhere, I don’t see the point in dirtying a dress.

So I get creative.

On Saturday, Stephen and I had plans to hang out at home all day so we could get a few things accomplished. We also had to be around for the Rooms To Go people to deliver our table and recliner. I saw no point in taking a shower and getting fancy so I put on a pair of Stephen’s boxers and a tank top. The boxers are turquoise and say “Wii” all over them. (In fact, click here to see a picture that I found on The Google.) The tank top… well… it wasn’t maternity.

I had no problem with this outfit. I was comfortable and, frankly, that’s all that really matters to me. But Stephen wasn’t sold. Early in the morning he said, “You’re not going to wear that when the delivery guys come, right?” I stared at him, “Why not?” And he replied, “It’s kind of revealing.”  I decided not to argue and just continue doing what I was doing… which was sweeping and mopping and generally being awesome.

We knew the delivery was going to come between 2 and 6 so I figured I had some time to hang out in my comfy clothes. And let’s face it, I was also hoping Stephen would forget that he told me to change. At 2:00 on the dot, the doorbell rang. I walked over to answer it and he stopped me. “Please go change.” Ugh. It’s not like he’s some random guy that I’m shacking up with. He’s my husband and I’m pregnant and it’s Saturday and I’m comfortable and I wanted to wear that outfit. This was no walk of shame, it was an adult pregnant woman hanging out in her own home in whatever makes her comfortable.

But I’m a fantastic wife so I submitted. I went to our room and put on some yoga pants. I kept the tank top on because I was able to hide my (apparently inappropriate) belly. I’m not sure if Stephen didn’t notice my tank top or approved, he didn’t say. Or maybe he was distracted by the excitement of our new furniture.

You’ve been asking, I heard you. Check out our new goods!

Lovely, huh?

I spent the majority of my Saturday doing a chore and then resting in the recliner. Chore, waddle to the recliner, chore, waddle to the recliner. And it made me happy.

If you want to know the honest truth, there is something that can embarrass me. It’s not a waddle through the office or short boxers in front of delivery men. Nope.

Last week I had a serious craving for a slice of cookie cake from The Great American Cookie in the mall. I caved. I stopped on my way home from work and parked at Dillards. I thought the cookie place was closest to Dillards. I was seriously wrong. I walked through Dillards, dodging the perfume ladies, out into the main area ignoring the hair straightening people and cell phone kiosks, past the food court where everyone seemed to be staring at my belly, on and on. Finally I reached the wonderful cookie kiosk. I got my slice of cookie cake and started back the other way. I was unable to wait until I got to my car to eat my glorious giant cookie. Commence embarrassment.

Big pregnant woman waddling with cookie in hand… past the food court people who are now staring at my belly and my cookie, again passing the cell phone kiosks and hair straightening people, back through Dillards and the perfume ladies with no personal space. I felt like they were all staring, all judging, all concerned about my belly and my cookie.

That’s the pregnant woman’s walk of shame. But you know what? I didn’t feel an ounce of shame! Okay well maybe I did at first, but not after that chocolate icing hit my taste buds.

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June 17, 2010 at 8:25 am 12 comments


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