I’ve been more aware of my own body in the past 32 weeks than I was the entire duration of middle and high school combined, which is really saying something. I’ve been in awe at what it can do (seriously, there’s a functioning human inside me, that I made!). I’ve been shocked by how far it can stretch (Danny has to shave my legs for me now because I just… can’t. God bless that man.) Muscles I didn’t know I had are sore more often than not and each day I discover something new. It’s a truly beautiful, intimate experience.
But as my own love affair with my body blossoms, it seems to come at a price. Not only do I get to revel in my own body as it carries on mankind’s oldest tradition, it seems that I am now up for debate amongst strangers and friends alike. The conversation always goes about the same. Up until now, I always respond with a very polite, toned-down version of what I am thinking, but I’ve decided to change the conversation. Here are some of the typical questions I get and my new, shiny, filterless responses:
“You look like you’re about to pop!”
I’m not a balloon. End of argument.
“You look too big/too small to be that far along!”
I look exactly how I should look. As a woman that is literally 33 weeks 4 days pregnant, I look 33 weeks 4 days pregnant. Maybe it doesn’t fit into what you think a woman at this stage should look, but that doesn’t mean I don’t look it. Sorry, not sorry.
“You don’t still have sex, do you?” (usually accompanied by face that is both disapproving and worried at the same time)
It confuses a lot of people in general that women willingly partake in satisfying, sexual relationships. But what’s even crazier to most folks is that pregnant women have sex. What?! My sex life has been up for debate more since I’ve been pregnant than in my whole life. So just to be clear. Yes, I can still have sex. No, it doesn’t “poke the baby”. Yes, it’s bloody awesome still. And no, it doesn’t go against my “motherly instinct.” My sexual drive is exactly what has lead to my being a mother to begin with, so the logic there is a little flawed.
“Was he planned or a happy little accident?”
Leading back to the last point, I had sex on purpose. So whether or not a baby was the plan, it means that my Roman was intentional. This is not a Bob Ross painting. You can’t ask if I’m having a “happy little accident” and smile at me as if the question isn’t wildly offensive.
“Pregnant bodies are gross.”
Not so much a question as a statement that gets made. This seems weird, because who in their right mind would ever say this to someone who is obviously pregnant, right? Well, people say it. Mainly dudes. Well, dudes who think pregnant bodies are gross, I’m going to call each and every one of your mothers and tell her your sentiments and let her take it from there.
For whatever reason, being pregnant gives people the pass to talk about your body in ways otherwise inconceivable. I have found myself sucking it in when taking bumpies, lying about my due date, and still trying to find that perfect outfit that makes me look pregnant and not just fat. I don’t want to do it anymore. For once in my life I love my body exactly the way it is and I’m going to convince the world to do the same, one awkward conversation at a time.
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