Pregnancy: Tales From the Trenches, I'm Not Fat I'm Pregnant

Ok, ok I admit the books on pregnancy did mention something about me gaining some type of weight of the period of nine months. I just didn't take them seriously. I've seen pregnant women before I just thought there would be some way around the whole "get a belly" thing in my case. I have a friend who literally gained 13 pounds with her kids and she was fine. So I assumed I could be just like her. The only difference is that she works out like a mad woman and also has a starting weight of 95 pounds. No I'm not kidding.

I saw how skinny Madonna looked when she was pregnant and what about Catherine Zeta Jones who literally filmed the musical Chicago in fish net stockings when she was four months along? Why wouldn't I be just like them minus the personal trainer and the zone diets delivered right to their doors daily? I could do it. I could keep my figure if it killed me!

Uh.."Clue Phone! It's for Kerri!" I'm an idiot and in my first few weeks of pregnancy I literally knew I was embarking on the battle of the bulge literally. I didn't want to give in but my first clue was when I decided working out with my trainer was overrated. What better excuse than being "with child" for me to quit completely. I told him I'd do my" own program" that was safe for the baby. This consists of watching Oprah every day on my couch and attempting a leg lift or two. Last night I tried a leg lift when I was watching "Amazing Race" because I inspired by all the fit people. But then I decided my shoe was heavy and lifting my leg required too much effort and it might hurt the baby. So I stopped and got some ice cream. But I did walk all the way to the kitchen!

Back several months before I was prego my husband and I decided to get a personal trainer to lose those "marriage love pounds" we'd both put on. It was a brutal 6:30 am schedule 3 times a week. I just hated it and now that I'm pregnant, I find it a total waste of time. I don't think getting up at 6:00am is good for anyone's health for that matter.

I think the whole carrying a child thing has gone to my head because I have this sense of empowerment when it comes to physically exerting myself. I won't do it. It's not like I seriously think I could injure my little munchkin. I just never did like working out so now's my time to milk it for all it's worth. My dilemma lies in the fact I don't want to be the fat pregnant lady either.

I think I started showing when I was about 3 minutes along. I did a comedy show and afterwards we broke the news to some of Ron's family. His aunt says "Yeah we knew it. You looked a little hefty up there!" I was about a month and a half along! Ya gotta love family! People totally knew I was pregnant no matter how hard I tried to hide it. So at some point the reality hit me that I might not be able to fit into my current wardrobe for much longer as much as I struggled.

Ron and I recently were scheduled to do a two night comedy showcase in LA for top casting directors and it was going to be a great experience to be on that roster with top comedians. The first night I got dressed in some stretch pants and a cotton top with a bold pattern on it thinking this would conceal the bulge in my tummy. I accessorized with lots of jewelry thinking, "distraction was a good weapon!" I would woo them with my flare! We arrive at the club and as usual it's about 90% male comics. And in the comedy world being overweight can be part of your act so it's not like some male supermodel convention backstage at all. We don't exactly have a lot of offers to do a "Hot Comedians Swimsuit Calendar!"

Anyway I was feeling pretty good until she walked in. I see this cute tiny size 6x Osh Kosh B'Gosh adorable girl of about 23 walk in. I thought she was someone's girlfriend but turns out she was a fellow comic. She approaches me and says "Hey you're Kerri Pomarolli. I'm a huge fan!" (I'm thinking there's nothing huge about you except your perfectly proportioned large cleavage that is so popular in LA!) She was pretty and sweet and super thin. I couldn't even hate her because she was actually being nice to me and telling me how I've inspired her as a clean comic. So she's not only cute and thin she's a clean comic too? It gets worse. Then she proceeds to tell me she does churches and Christian events as well. Now she's treading in deep waters because I thought I was the "hot chick" of the Christian women comics (all four of us-we all think we're each the hot chick between us). Now she wants to come steal my throne? I knew this day would come but who could prepare me! I made conversation with her because she was flattering to me and I came to find out all kinds of things about her, like she had just moved to LA about a year ago signed with a top agency and now was up for a movie role with Forrest Whitaker. Forrest Whitaker? Academy award winner Forrest Whitaker? Couldn't it be someone like Roger Whitaker that folk singer from the 1970's that whistled? Why did she have to get some super mega movie role offer 2 minutes after she arrived in "my town?" She said she had to "pray about it first" but they really wanted her for the lead. Well isn't that special? I was so jealous my ears had steam coming out of them. I put on my fake "LA" smile and politely told her to "call me" in that fake "LA" way and waddled my big old belly away.

The show started and I went out and did my act without a hitch and was feeling pretty good about my pregnancy playing nicely into my comedy. People laughed at me but in this case I was ok with it. Then about 30 minutes later Casey the cute, pretty 23 year old goes out and has the set of the night talking about her dating adventures of the young and single girls in Hollywood and to top it off she was 100% clean. I used to be young and single, I think. The audience ate her up and I was oh so very...depressed on the way home. All I could do was rant and rave about how I wasn't as cute as Casey and she was going to take over my career as the "good girl Christian comedian in Hollywood." Then I would die homeless penniless, alone and most of all 30 pounds overweight. I know how much my husband cared about me because he immediately stopped for doughnuts and candy bars to calm my nerves. It worked for 2 minutes and then I was back to my monologue about how much of a better person and comedian Casey was than me. I also said" Plus she's skinnier than I am!" My husband finally had it," You're pregnant silly!"

I replied" So what you're really saying Ron is that she IS skinnier than me! You like her better don't you! You wish she was your hot wife don't you!" The car ride rant went on and on until 10 minutes later I dozed off to sleep in the passenger seat.

I woke up the next morning bound and determined to make some changes before my second night's performance at the comedy festival. No more accessory jungle nightmare of color for me. I was going back to what used to work for me and that was only one thing: my size 4 "Seven" designer skinny jeans. They had served me well in the past couple of years on auditions, public outings and other events. I always knew the skinny jeans were a sure fire hit and I was not about to let them fail me now. That evening as I picked out my light green semi loose but fashionable sweater and jewelry set I grabbed my pair of jeans and put them on. Well ok let me rephrase that. I attempted to put them on and I got both legs in but something was amiss. They would not button up no matter what tactics I tried. I even did the lay on the ground thing and held my breath. I almost passed out but I gave it a good effort. I thought of smearing Crisco oil on my belly but I decided there had to be a better way. Then I saw a bright pink thick rubber band sitting on my dresser. I had a "MacGyver" moment of genius. I took the rubber band and twirled it around the button on my jeans and looped it in the buttonhole to make a sort of bridge so the pants would not be buttoned but held together by the single rubber band. Did this cut off my circulation? Yes! Did I look good in those jeans? More importantly yes! Breathing is overrated and I could do without it for one night. So I shimmied my way behind Ron to the car. He noticed I seemed happier but much more quiet on the way over. I suppose he didn't notice the lack of oxygen to my brain was impairing my speech. Oh well, it's not his issue.

We arrived at the theater again and all the comics including Miss Casey who was sporting her own set of beautifully fitting skinny jeans greeted me. (I bet all she has is skinny jeans!) She was wearing a cute T-shirt that said" Single Likes to Mingle!" I was so mad because I used to wear those cute t-shirts. I have one that says "Hi! I'm Single this weekend!" But since I've worn it in my pregnancy it doesn't seem to have the same effect. Not that I'm looking for a date but it always makes people laugh and it's great when I'm at parties.

So anyway I took a seat and one of the comics had brought treats for everyone to eat. He offered me a doughnut and for the sake of my child I obliged. Now mind you I had been wearing my sear sucking jeans for almost 2 hours at this point, rubber band intact and there were serious issues with me being able to really move around in them. But I didn't have any other clothes to change into and I just had to get through my set on stage. Casey opened the show with another fabulously funny and sassy performance. The audience cheered her on and I had to admit I liked her clean comedy. I decided we could be friends...AFTER the baby comes and I'm back to my "cute t-shirt" weight.

Finally at the end of the night it was my turn to go on. I strutted out on that stage knowing there were some major producers in that audience there to see me. My jokes were a hit and everyone was really enjoying the show. I was getting big laughs and I knew I was "on" and I felt good. I felt so good as I was back into my routine and I decided to go for my big "Pilates" joke which required some "Kerri Pomarolli" special physical comedy moves. The big finale was a "kick" in the air I'm kind of famous for. I mean how many comedians include in their routine a "Radio City Rockette" high kick? I told the punch line and as my leg was rising in the air all I could hear was a smack and pop. Then as if in slow motion, I see the rubber band around my jeans fly off of my waist, into the air and onto the floor in front of me where everyone in the audience could see it just dangling there. It wasn't a small rubber band that could have been hidden. It was a bright pink big huge honkin thing that looked like it flew out of my belly button. Not to mention my jeans started to quickly slide down both thighs open wide because my huge pot pregnant belly was now protruding in a way that no one could ignore. It looked like a can of Pillsbury dough mix that just got opened and the dough just starts spreading everywhere. I had a mic in one hand and there was no way the other hand was going to be able to save my jeans from falling so open it would quickly become an R –rated show. I could see the headlines now "Christian Comedian tries Strip Tease Comedy...Pregnant!" No I'm not Demi Moore and that wasn't the look I was going for. I had two choices .I could ignore the obvious and try in some way to finish my act in utter disgrace. Or I could run off stage yelling "Fire ! Fire! Fire!" I thought about it and as much as option #2 sounded appealing. I thought to myself" Kerri, you're pregnant and you've got to face it. You're also a comedian and you can use this situation to your advantage, someway, somehow. Think Kerri, what would Steve Martin do?"(My favorite comedy icon) I pulled myself and my jeans together and said to the audience "Oh if you didn't notice, I'm not fat I'm pregnant! Yeah that's what happens when you don't have cable!" They smiled and applauded. Then I said" I tried to wear my skinny jeans to be impressive to you people but it's just not working out. I'm going to go home now and eat myself into a carbohydrate infested ice cream coma because I CAN! "I said as I gracefully picked up my broken rubber band off the floor. I ended with "For all the dieting and weight conscious folks out there tonight who are counting calories and carbs. I'll have a Krispy Creme and double chocolate shake for you! Good night!" They applauded and I marched off the stage triumphantly.

I came home and as I was binging away on the couch at midnight with my dieting husband eating his carrot sticks I realized a couple important truths. I'm a mother and I'm carrying an actual life inside of me. This life needs food and room to grow. If I restrain this precious little one from growth space by restricting my own womb to expand I'm doing a disservice to my own child. Instead what I need to do is take a couple deep breathes and realize that growing a belly is the natural process of pregnancy and no matter how hard I try there are no "take backs" and I better just get used to the idea. I also came to the conclusion that I'm more than a growing belly and larger thighs. I was carrying the next prince or princess of our family. Ron aptly named me that night "The Royal Incubator" and for the next few months my main job would be to make sure the little royalty inside me was comfy, happy and well fed!