Belly Confession

I have a confession to make.  I’m suddenly that pregnant lady who is touching her belly all the time.  I know.  I’m not proud of this, but I needed to tell someone.  I pick you all.

I’ve always wondered why the pregnant ladies walk around touching their bellies, or worse yet, in the later trimester, walk around with their hands underneath, practically holding it up.  I used to work with a lady who had meetings with me all throughout months eight and nine who would constantly itch and scratch her belly with her overly long fingernails over top of her faux silk maternity shirt.  The sound alone was enough to make me nauseous.  Finding out that she would sit in her doorless cubicle slathering cocoa butter on her bare belly from nine to five every day put me right over the edge.  Shudder.

So I find myself standing in the kitchen with my wife, alternately stirring up some ground beef on the stove top and walking to the back deck to throw the tennis ball for the dog, and somewhere in between, while chatting about our days, I’m all of the sudden, and uncontrollably touching my belly.  Now, I can’t quite put my finger on the compulsion to do so, but the closest thing I can think of is this.  It’s like, if you get a new, shorter haircut, and you can’t stop touching your hair.  Like – something’s different, and I NEED TO TOUCH IT.  Or if you have a chipped tooth, or a ragged hangnail – something, somewhere is out of the ordinary, and there’s the need to notice it all the time.

I’m not trying to feel any movement per se, as I can feel him just fine on the inside, thankyouverymuch.   I’m also not trying to share some special bonding moment.  I’ve had a good hand-resting-sized belly for a good long while pre-pregnancy, so it’s not like, “Oh, what’s this belly?!”  It’s mostly the growing size, plus the weird harness, multiplied then divided by more protrusion than I’m used to, that’s making it seem less like MY belly, and more like A belly that has been applied on top of MY belly.  Go ahead – put a stick-on belly on top of yours and try not to touch it all the time.  I dare you.

Maybe it’s some subconscious way of desensitizing myself to my new features.  Maybe I should go get a drastic haircut to distract my belly-touching hands.  At any rate, I at least have my own answers to why pregnant ladies are belly-touchers.  I just never thought it would be me.  Who knew?


Posted on March 11, 2010, in everyday. Bookmark the permalink. 3 Comments.

  1. 🙂 I still do this, and am surprised when I remember the baby is out now!

  2. Yes to all you said – and teaberry, too. XD

  3. i think i was a belly rubber, especially as the belly got bigger and bigger. i couldn’t help but touch it. and sometimes, it stopped the kicking or the weird positioning of the lil stow-away.

    i’m surprised you haven’t started the rocking yet, or have you? now THAT was shocking!

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