2:27 p.m. - 2006-04-03
Big
I'm starting to feel big. Not as in "adult-like" (could that ever happen to me?), but as in "side-of-a-barn-like."
My mom's favorite nickname for me is "Big Girl." (So embarrassing.) She's called me that ever since I was a little kid -- I think because I'm the big sister and she thought it was cute -- and sometimes, she forgets and calls me that in front of friends and others who don't normally see me as a, uh, big girl. But now I think she sees me that way literally. We were over at my parents' house yesterday, and while I snoozed in a chair, waiting for my dinner to be ready, she came over and remarked that I'm carrying awfully big for three months. Thanks, mom! It's nice to hear the awful truth from those who love you the most.
But I am getting big, and it's not all baby. I've gained 7.5 pounds -- and if it sounds like I'm obsessed with this topic, that I can't talk about much else -- you're very perceptive. Last week at work, a coworker and I were walking into the office one morning at the same time. We chatted a bit as we walked back to our offices, and she told me she could see my new bump. I gave her my standard, "yeah, but it's mostly fat" line, explaining how much weight I've gained, and she said, "Yeah, I can tell your face is changing." Well, there's only one way to interpret that, and it's not, "Wow, you look like you've lost weight!" So now my face is fat, too. As if I needed one more reason to feel self-conscious. I know, I know... come up with any number of arguments you like: I'm pregnant, and this is supposed to happen; pregnant women are all beautiful; it's all for a good cause -- I know all of this, but I can't help feeling like a heifer.
I've just returned from the mall, where I purchased two stretchy items to fit my fat ass into. Actually, I'm pretty psyched: I just got a pair of pants and a skirt, both with pull-on elastic waistbands, and they're both cute. And then I got a piece of chocolate from Godiva. So sue me. Oink.
