My belly and I

If you talked with me at all between weeks 16 and 30, you heard me bemoan the fact that I had managed to grow a baby while neglecting to grow a belly. I'm sure this got as old for you as it did for me.

Around week 16 or so, I got so tired of not having even the faintest baby bump that I started to worry the baby wasn't getting enough nutrition (ice-cream). I feasted for a week or two and noticed some results: I had achieved the fat-stage-of-pregnancy belly (not to be at all confused with a cute, medium-sized pregnant belly) that would be my constant companion for the next several months. The doctors complimented me on my steady, yet controlled weight gain.

My reasons for wanting a true pregnant belly were as follows:

1.) Pregnant bellies are cute. Many of my friends grew adorable bellies, and it was my turn. After all, they'd loaned me their clothes, the least I could do would be to actually fit into them.
2.) Pregnant bellies give you a place to rest your hands when you're sitting bored in a meeting. I'd watched several coworkers do this, and I wanted to as well: it looked like more fun than most meetings I've been in (I can now say assuredly that it is).
3.) People treat you better when you have a pregnant belly: they open doors for you, lift heavy items, etc.
4.) People smile at you more when they see you're pregnant. They're friendlier. All I got were scowls and glares that clearly said "shouldn't you be doing more sit-ups?"
5.) There's no resisting rubbing your own pregnant belly, especially when Baby is kicking. However, when you rub a small I-got-fat-instead-of-pregnant belly, you simply look like you're hungry (or like you've eaten too much and have indigestion), and you get extra scowls and glares.
6.) When you finally achieve the am-I-fat-or-pregnant belly, it only adds more uncomfortable confusion, as people look at you a little longer than they would if they were simply dismissing you as "fat," but still think it better not to say anything. Despite the fact that I agree it's much better to be safe than sorry on this one, it got old when people usually chose the "she might just be fat" route.

Lack of a cute pregnant belly brings with it several inconveniences. For instance, my first baby shower was around week 27. I could still hide my belly, which is a rather embarrassing problem to have at your baby shower. I briefly considered ordering a belly pillow just so that I'd look appropriately pregnant, lest my guests shake their heads at me and leave without so much as having a piece of cake with me. Fortunately, they're all nice people and enjoy cake enough to pretend, so even if they privately thought I was deluded and making much too big a deal about several months worth of binge eating, they were as gracious as they could possibly be.

And then there's the fact that people had to occasionally be reminded that I was sick, tired and achy for two, now, so I could receive appropriate pampering (usually in the form of lifting heavy items). Not that they're not perfectly helpful when they are reminded, but I started to feel like a bit of a nag at the expense of protecting my baby and my back. And naggy, pregnant women are invited to parties even less often than slightly fat, deluded women.

Walking was a problem too--not general grocery-store walking, but walking around our hilly neighborhood. Hauling myself up hill after hill, having practice contractions all the way but with no noticeable belly to speak of, I could practically hear people saying to each other and their dogs "What's wrong with her? Sure, she's a bit thick around the middle, but she can barely even walk? Pathetic."

Because even when you don't look very pregnant, it's very possible to feel very pregnant.

But my lack of a belly had its advantages, too. Here's a sample conversation from my small-bellied days:

Them: "You're pregnant? How far along are you?"
Me, proudly: "Almost 7 months"
Them: "But you're so small!"

Really, that's not a bad thing to hear on a daily basis, even when you, yourself, are starting to believe that you should simply be doing more sit-ups and the ultrasound was simply a rather endearing picture of your last ice-cream sundae.

What's more, Small Belly was a much better bedfellow than my current Medium-Sized Belly. Small Belly would allow me to sleep on my back occasionally, or switch from left side to right side without having to practically get out of bed. Medium-Sized Belly will allow no such conveniences.

Around week 31, I gave up. Fine, Baby. You win. If you're not going to give me a decent-sized pregnant belly, let's just go back to the way I was. I'd like to wear my old clothes now, anyway.

I was also starting to realize at this point that what is in must come out: a concept that did wonders for my jealousy of those who nicely fill out their maternity clothes.

But Baby had other things in mind. I grew a belly! Now, we go everywhere together. Don't tell Medium-Sized Belly, but Small Belly was actually better company.

I'm definitely discovering some disadvantages of toting Belly around. The other day at McDonald's we had an inch of clearance between the table and the booth. By the time I'd finished my ice-cream cone, we were down to half an inch.

And then there's the fact that I'm so off-balance that getting up out of a seat practically requires a helicopter lift nowadays.

Nevertheless, the day I turned 34 weeks (as a frame of reference, there are about 40 weeks in a typical pregnancy) I was extremely thrilled and flattered when Belly was first noticed by a stranger. It happened again a couple days later, and I found myself finally able to take it for granted that I look pregnant. I no longer feel out of place at Babies R Us, as if I should be shopping from someone else's registry instead of my own.

And yet, I'm still not big enough (see previous post). How much more will I grow? And if I'm relatively uncomfortable now, how much worse is it going to get?

But what happens if I never get a truly large belly? At the end of this week I'll be considered full term, and could deliver any time (although it'll probably be a few weeks to a month yet). Would they turn me away from Labor and Delivery if I simply didn't look big enough? Tell me to lay off the ice cream and quit complaining about excruciating "indigestion?" What a weird problem to have.