Pregnancy: Tales From the Trenches, Bikini Season

I awakened last week to the familiar tingling of my feet at 29 weeks pregnant. Baby was 29 weeks. Happy Birthday baby! As a pregnant woman I'm always counting her weeks because each one counts. The longer she "bakes in the mommy oven" the better. It's August in California so there definitely could be worse places to be right now but nonetheless it's hot. My husband was out of town and I thought I'd spend a nice Saturday morning organizing our little home and doing "mom" things. Then I had a bridal shower of a girlfriend to attend. I actually spent the morning on BabyCenter.com researching possible cures and causes for the tingling in my extremities. I got everything from carpal tunnel syndrome to high blood pressure. I don't have either of those. I've decided my diagnosis is "pregnant." I did hear that the circulation could be helped sometimes by taking extra iron. But then my neighbor told me if I take too much iron I could die from "Iron overdose" and I prefer to live. This morning is just one of those mornings where I'm not too happy about my condition and the way my body looks. I had a nightmare last night that my thighs were turning blue from all the varicose veins and they had been that way for a while but I was too big in the belly to see them. I have to admit there are certain parts of my body I make a conscious choice not to look at. If I could do that when I'm not pregnant I'm sure I'd have higher self-esteem. Just think if all the women of the world made a pledge "We're not going to look in a mirror below our waists. We will not turn around in a mirror and obsess about the size of our God given "back", as J-Lo would call it? I think we'd all be a little plumper and a lot happier don't you?

I was going to see a few of my good friends today who hadn't seen me in weeks. I did not want the first reaction to be "Oh my goodness...look how big you are!" I had that happen with my other friend Trista the other day that by the way looks fabulous because she was off to Hawaii and ten pounds lighter than normal. Her jaw dropped and she kept repeating over and over "No Way! Wow! No Way!" That is exactly what she said when I told her Ron and I are going to have a baby! "No Way! Wow! You? No Way!!!" I love her. She's so supportive and nurturing. I felt bigger than ever because I've just recently put on 10 lbs in the past month. My whole goal for pregnancy was/is 25 lbs. I'm up to 20 and I'm only 29 weeks. Yeah I'm depressed, being the goal setter that I am.

So I had decided to wear my cutest blue maternity dress with my brand new 38-C nursing bra, which was still too tight around my back. Mind you I started out as a 34-b and now I have to use the bra extender I bought from the maternity shop on a 38 bra. What happened? Those bra extenders you buy are really cheap and make the backs looser so they don't cut off your circulation as much.

The problem with my outfit is that the bra was so much material in the front it kept sticking out of the armpits of my cute dress. I don't know how the well-endowed women of America do when they're prego? That's a lot of bra! I thought I wanted to have a bigger chest before I was pregnant. Now I realize I don't need the upkeep.
Anyway, my feet were still tingling but I really wanted to wear my cute pink shoes to the shower. They are flats after all and have adorable bows on them. They were not comfortable from the moment I put them on. But I refused to give into the fact that my swollen feet could be making some of my shoes uncomfortable. Some women even warned me my foot would grow a whole shoe size. That would be a terrible feat if you ask me. I love my shoes. I got that little habit from my own mother who thinks good shoes are a sign of good breeding and Godliness. I didn't even think to bring a back up pair of more comfortable shoes for later in the day. I waddled out to my car and drove in the hot summer sun to the shower. I arrive to see my girlfriends all looking radiant and thin. Even the one who has a 6-month-old son looks like a poster girl for "Slim Fast." She's a model and so is her husband. So I think it's in her job description to look thin and beautiful at all times. I'm glad I didn't become a super model like I planned when I was 7. Everyone was really polite and ooohed and aaaahed over my little pregnant belly and noone said how huge I looked. I took my place outside to enjoy a lovely lunch of salads and fruit and later some strawberry shortcake. I felt proud of myself for not totally indulging into too much sugar filled dessert or soda that day because I had been trying to watch my calories a little more since my last Dr. appt and my 10 lb weight gain. At 2:00pm it was time to go and my feet were officially killing me. I made it back to my car and concluded I'd be driving straight home in these shoes and unable to do any errands. I decided to take the scenic route home through the pier and downtown areas of the beach communities. One of my favorite times living in southern California has always been summer because we'd have beach parties and bar b ques and everyone would be out mingling all over the streets enjoying ice cream cones and other summer treats. It's a great vibe. This particular summer has in some way gone too quickly because it was early August and I hadn't been to the beach one time. It seemed to be passing me by. Ron and I had just discussed having a couple beach days soon before it was too late and I was looking forward to that very much. I started driving and got in the typical Saturday traffic pile up in Manhattan Beach on the main drag. I looked around and saw a sea of summer tan bodies walking up and down the sidewalks laughing and having a wonderful time. Then it hit me. All of the female tanned physiques were not only young and gorgeous but absolutely the size of a toothpick. There were no protruding bellies, no bathing suits with skirts to hide enormously growing backsides. There wasn't one bit of fat to be seen and believe me I looked. These girls and women looked like models out of a Sports Illustrated calendar, every one of them. All I could think was that my thighs now rubbed together every time I walked. What a depressing emotional scene I was subjecting myself to. Yes I was hormonal and 7 months pregnant but this didn't occur to me right then. All I could concentrate on was that I was no longer one of these happy go lucky ice cream eating bikini babes. I 'm not saying I was a twig but I admit I could hold my own on a Saturday afternoon at the beach in a two-piece without feeling like a total outcast. Maybe it's California but there seemed to be not a single woman over the size of Child's 6X and absolutely no pregnant women. Maybe there was an ordinance outlawing them from being seen in public?

I decided to exit this scene quickly and take another route home. It's not that I' m feeling sorry for myself, well ok maybe a little. It's just that nothing can really prepare you for all the changes your body will go through and how you will react to them. I don't hear many women talking about their feelings and I think there needs to be more dialogue. I'm assuming other women out there love their babies but aren't completely elated with the varicose veins all over their bodies and the stretch marks and other normality's that come with carrying the little munchkins? I'll be honest; I'm not loving it.

I went with my friend Gina later that day to actually buy myself a bathing suit that would be sufficient for the rest of the summer and it would be something I could be comfortable in. I went to the bathing suit store and looked around at the two pieces. I was looking in the regular section of suits not maternity because I just wasn't thinking I'd need a "pregnant" bathing suit.

I found some cute regular ones though. I didn't want to try them on but Gina insisted. I decided to compromise and just try on a few tops. This store just carried small, medium, large and XL. I gathered some cute suits and headed to the dreaded "dressing room." One thing I think women who are pregnant need to do is avoid dressing rooms altogether. The fluorescent lighting is no one's friend and neither is a 3-way mirror. I choose to live in my denial about my backside and its ever-expanding shape. This reinforced my decision to undress from the waist up with my eyes closed and only try on the bathing suit tops. The first one was a small and I looked like Pamela Anderson falling out of it everywhere. This was not a mommy appropriate size but I managed to squeeze myself into a medium and not feel too X-rated for pool parties with my in laws.

I had gathered some of the bottom bathing suit pieces that looked like shorts. This was a new experience for me buying either the "shorts bottom" or the "shorts plus skirt" bathing suit bottom. My mom had been famous for always wearing these suits when I was a kid that had these fluffy skirts at the rear end and to me that just draws more attention to that area by decorating it with little ruffles and flowers. My mom weighs all of 106 lbs and still insists on wearing a skirt bathing suit. So now I was turning into my mom? No, I resisted and surveyed the board shorts looking pieces. The small would be too small and I could live with that. The medium looked big to me so I decided to show it to the sales lady. She took one look at me, then one look at the suit and said, "You need to buy a large honey!" I was so insulted. I had never heard those words in my life. I'm 5"2 and had been a size 3 or 4 up until recently and the thought of buying a "large" anything was just a bit emotional. To all the ladies reading this I know we're all created in different shapes and sizes so I'm just writing this to convey my situation. It's not about the exact size but the surprisingly fast change in size I was experiencing in my body. It was just something different.

I know we all have our PMS days where we can't fit into our skinny jeans and we resort to our fat pants that are a size bigger than normal. But this was different...this was a large. Did my behind really convey the message to this clerk that I needed a size large as not to scare the little children at the community pool? The medium looked big enough and it wasn't like it was some string bikini. I fretted and fumed inside and then finally grabbed the large bottom and medium top and begrudgingly went to check out. I got a slurpee to make me feel better and that definitely worked. Nothing like an entire cup of icee sugar water to cure what ails you.
I got home and laid my new suit out on the bed. Since no one was home I thought "what the heck" and decided to try on my new hot suit for summer.
I put the top on and wiggled and wrangled everything in place as best I could. It was time to put on the dreaded bottom piece. I pulled it up over my right leg and the strangest thing happened. I must have been trying to put it on backwards or something because I couldn't get it over my thigh. I flipped it off and tried again knowing this way was correct. This definitely must have been a mistake because I could not get the suit up in any way shape or form over both of my thighs to even try to tie it at my hipbones. This was one of those low waisted suits so the belly wasn't even an issue. I tried and tried. I looked like I was doing some type of hip hop dance in my bathroom jumping up and down all over the place.

But to no avail this baby was about to rip into pieces if I yanked it any harder. Then it hit me like a mac truck. This darn "large" sucker was too small! My big fat behind had grown so much it wouldn't even fit into this large women's bathing suit. When did this happen? How did I not see it? Well maybe that's because I've been ignoring mirrors for the past few months but surely I would have noticed right? Or at least my husband would have noticed? Yeah right, as if he would dare make as single comment about my size and live to see another day. I couldn't believe what was happening at this very moment. I took a few deep breaths and decided to do something important.

I looked long and hard in the mirror at the woman facing me. It wasn't easy but I really checked her out. I checked out the spider vain with blue lines, the breakouts, the expanded bust line and then her belly and beyond. I got the realization that in some way this woman must be beautiful. In some way this woman with the cellulite and puffy feet must be happy with herself because inside of her big old belly was the most beautiful thing God has ever created on the entire earth...a human life. Not only that but a little baby girl who would grow up and probably look somewhat like her. So as I stared at this woman I had to make some choices. I could choose to keep obsessing and comparing myself to what I used to be, what I 'm not now and what I won't be again. Or I could find it in my heart to realize that in fact this stage in my life was the most important one of all and I was created by God to do this very job. I was made to live on this earth and bring this other little soul into existence to possibly shake up the world in her own way. So the deal is that to do that I was going to face some big changes in pretty much every area of my mind and body. It's not like there was any turning back. So was I ready to face the rest of this journey and embrace it or would I continue on my spiral of denial followed by frustrations with my changing self? It's not an easy thing to do, to take the positive route. I'm not perfect and since then I'm not saying I walk by mirrors and applaud. I just decided I'd do my best not to condemn myself and my body for adjusting to the amazing miracle inside of me. Do I still use the olive oils and tummy butters? You bet ya.
After that afternoon I went back to the store and looked at the "maternity suits. I kept the top I had purchased and went and got myself a nice comfy XL large bottom. It's a little too big but it works. It makes me feel good and when I strutted my stuff at the family pool party yesterday I really had a great time. My little niece kept coming up to my belly and saying" Hi Baby!" She's 5 and I wouldn't want her to ever be ashamed of her body no matter what size she is. I hope I can pass that along to my daughter. The women of tomorrow deserve to be proud of themselves inside and out more than the generation I grew up in. I hope she doesn't read fashion mags and Hollywood stuff and feel less than absolutely beautiful. I don't know what the answer is to helping the girls of today be more confident women of tomorrow but I'm sure going to try and find out.