Pregnancy Secrets Revealed

Here we are at 30 weeks and I’ve learned the latest pregnancy secret: “You look great!” really means, “You don’t look horrible!”  Cause really, folks, I don’t think I look as good in this pink sweater as you think I do.  Definitely not “great.”  But thanks.

I don’t know the key to not looking horrible, or I’d be writing a best-selling book called Butch, Pregnant, and Not Looking Horrible.  And honestly, after a quick once over of some pictures I’m mailing off to my internet-less mom and grandma, per request and demand, that chronicle my growing belly, I am living in shock and awe that I was not considered supermodel quality around 18 weeks considering where we are now.  That, and I can’t believe how HUGE my head looks in the pictures from before I started showing.  It had its own weather system!

Even my prenatal masseuse told me, at 28 weeks, that I could pass as non pregnant.  Maybe my book will be called Butch, Pregnant, yet Not Looking Pregnant at 28 Weeks. But it’s a lie – I do look pregnant.  I look pretty fucking pregnant, actually.  See?

Right.  That’s me and Vegas cooking burgers last night.  With our trusty elbow-length oven mitt.  (PS – Nice lawn, wife!)

And seriously, if you stare at him long enough, he’ll even break out some Kung Fu that’ll make it look like my t-shirt is hosting a puppet show.  How’s that for pregnant, huh?  HiYa!

The only other pregnancy secret I’ve found out is that veteran mothers (those with teenagers and beyond) tend to disclose the simplest information and opinions under hushed breaths, after looking around first for potential eaves-droppers.  Like they’re getting ready to tell me the Colonel’s secret recipe.  Then they say things like, “This is such a wonderful time,” and “Make sure you take the full 12 weeks of leave.”  In a way that indicates that their life hasn’t been even remotely as wonderful as when it was when they were pregnant, or that those 12 weeks of leave were the last vacation days they ever saw, 14 years ago.  Thanks for the head’s up, veteran moms.  Shhhhh, I won’t tell.  Promise.

So here’s to cracking the secret codes and intentionally waggling my belly out in front sometimes when I’m walking, if only to make sure people know why I’m wearing a pink sweater.