I’ve gained 32 lbs thus far. Dane weighs about 3 lbs right now. Seems legit.
That’s how much weight I gained with Elaina the ENTIRE PREGNANCY. I just can’t get over that number. I still have (technically) 9 weeks left. I’ve stopped weighing myself. I only see my weight climb up thanks to the stupid doctor’s office. Every time they weigh me Marvin comes up with an excuse for why I’m such a fat ass. It’s really sweet. I can’t tell if he really believes it or if he’s trying to make me feel better. He’ll be all “yeah, but remember you had a big breakfast?” (at 4 in the afternoon) or “that’s not really accurate since it’s 10:45 AM and you’re supposed to weigh yourself FIRST THING in the morning”.
All I complain about is how I feel SO fat. I talk about it non stop. I know it drives Marvin crazy. I feel so ugly and fat and pimply and disgusting. I can’t get over it. Pregnancy reminds me of how incredibly vain I am. I complain to my pregnant mommy friends in this secret Facebook group we have and they all compliment me and then I feel like I shouldn’t have complained because I look like a douche seeking out compliments. I know everyone is trying to make me feel better, but it feels weird. You know how when YOU’RE self conscious about something it doesn’t matter how OTHER people feel? You just feel how you feel.
I’ve been going around town in sweat pants lately. It’s worked out quite well so far. No one can see my hippopotamus legs and I don’t have to shave. But, now that the weather has cooled down I thought I might die of heat exhaustion if I didn’t get some spring/summer clothes.
I went to Old Navy to buy some clothes. Their stuff is plain and cheap and I’m not looking to spend a fortune since I won’t be this size forever (please, God!). You know that table they have with the boring, soft, v-neck shirts? They have them in a million colors? Well, I decided to buy some of those and some new jeans. The jeans that have been helping me along for the last 29 weeks now only reach half way up my butt crack. I didn’t want to buy maternity jeans because they just look…. maternity-ish and the clothes companies are cruel and like to kick a fat woman when she’s down and charge an arm and a leg for the “cute” maternity jeans.
Anyway, so I went and visited the table with those shirts and put like 5 of them (same style & size– different colors) in my cart. I grabbed two pairs of jeans and headed to the dressing room. I take off my clothes and slip on the first t-shirt. I immediately contemplate suicide. The shirt looks like a second piece of skin. It looks like I borrowed it from my 12 year old anorexic sister. The shirt is a size small. Duh, Diana. You are freaking almost 8 months pregnant. You can’t wear smalls anymore. Get yourself together.
I pop my head out of the dressing room and ask the attendant if she can get me a shirt in that style (any color) in a medium for me to try on. “A….medium?” she says. “Yes, please!”. She comes back with the medium. I try it on. It covers about 40% of my belly only. I’m in denial, aparently. Awesome. I need a large. Just awesome!! I stick my head out. “I guess I need a large. Do you mind?” She brings me the large. It fits. It’s comfortable. It’s a teeny tiny bit too big, which means that when I’m 40 weeks it’ll be too tight and I’ll contemplate suicide again.
I move on to the jeans. Remember they aren’t maternity jeans! I pull them on and they fit wonderfully. I can’t button them, but I can zip them and they feel comfortable and they look cute. Score! Then, I check the size. Why, God? Why did I do that? They are an 8.
Calm down. I know some of you are all “Omg, an 8 isn’t even big.” Well, for me an 8 is a size I’ve never worn before. I’ve never even come close. And, Old Navy is known for their vanity sizing. Which means that I probably really wear a 10. That’s a two digit number. F word.
I guess I’m writing this for all the pregnant gals who feel like an elephant, too. The ones who feel fat. (This is not for you if you feel so “beautiful” and “feminine” pregnant. PS- WHO ARE YOU?!?) Just keep in mind that this is a short time. We’ll be normal again one day! It’s for a good cause. And, if you are having a hard time, email me!! At least you’ll be able to talk with someone who knows EXACTLY how feel.
That’s a picture of me (right) 3 months before finding out I was expecting this time.
That’s a picture of me at 31 weeks. (Taken yesterday.)