Prego or Fat?: The Eternal Question of a Mama-To-Be

There comes a time in every mama's pregnancy when she starts to get bloated around the middle. And then that puffiness turns into a potbelly, and only around 5-6 months along does it become obvious that you are prego with a serious basketball glued to your belly, instead of just fat. But during the in between time of flat belly and basketball, most pregos choose their clothing options very carefully. For me, I would wear clothes that made it obvious I was prego - empire waists, ruched sides. However, I've seen pregos that also go the opposite route, wearing clothes that are loose and flowy because they think they don't look "prego enough" and don't want people to think they are just packing on the pounds. Every time before we go out, I turn to the side and ask my husband: "So do I look fat or prego?" He's smart enough to reply "prego" with the quickness as not to appear to be thinking about his response at all.

The same goes for when you aren't prego anymore... God forbid some fool asks if you are expecting when you definitely are not. As soon as Miss Paige popped out, the Spanx came out in full effect, along with belted tops and anything to define my waist again. I did not want anyone thinking I was still prego in any way shape or form.

Which brings me to a moment in time I try not to think about... the time when someone asked me when I was due (as in when my baby was due) when I was not prego. GASP! At the time I wasn't too devastated - mainly because of the circumstances surrounding the question - but it scarred me enough to make sure the delineation of Prego/Not Prego is clearly defined by my wardrobe.

Let me take you back - way back - to 2007. I was a spry 23 year old, planning a carefree vacay in Vegas with my boyfriend (now husband). If you remember back to 2007, the big trend in fashion was empire-waist shirts and dresses for everyone. And, being 23 and trendy, I had to jump on the empire-waist bandwagon. One fateful day before we headed out to Vegas, Daniel and I popped into Old Navy to pick up a few new outfits for our trip (obviously before mortgage payments, car payments and a baby to clothe and feed). I distinctly remember the moment when I picked up an adorable gray dress that I just had to have - empire-waist of course. I also clearly remember Daniel saying that he thought it was nice, but kind of looked like something a pregnant woman would wear... to which I said, "WHATEVER!" and went straight to the register. Fast forward one week... we're in Vegas, at the Blackjack table. I'm in my gray dress, sipping a Screwdriver or Mimosa or something that could easily be mistaken for straight orange juice. After a while, we became friendly with the dealer, and began chatting. After a few minutes of casual conversation, Mr. Blackjack looked at me and said, "So when are you due?" It was like a record screeched, as I stared back at him, in shock. He immediately knew he had made a mistake, and began stammering, "I am sooo sorry... your dress... it looks like something my wife had when she was pregnant... and you were drinking orange juice... and....and..." Daniel and I burst out laughing. I honestly wasn't upset or embarrassed at all - probably because I knew my stomach was flat, I was at a thin point in my life, and I would have assumed the same thing if I were him. The dress was indeed super-maternity looking. And what brings up this memory today? I am wearing the dress - while 7 months prego. Ends up it really is the perfect maternity dress, after all : )

Me, in Vegas, wearing the infamous gray dress. Note my look of fear/disgust in having to pose in front of Star Trek characters.

Pregnant in Heels? Ummmm.... We Need to Discuss

So please tell me I'm not the only one who saw last night's premier episode of the new Bravo show "Pregnant in Heels"?? We need to discuss the ridiculousness that is that show. First of all - who has ever heard of a "Pregnancy Concierge"?? I'm thinking Rosie Pope (the woman featured on the show) may have coined that term, and the definition is: Slave for hire, Will do any and all things at the whim of hormonal pregos with way too much money. I mean, isn't that what husbands are for when we are prego? Hehe... just kidding. Kind of.

But seriously... the way she caters to her "million dollar mamas" is out of control. Or, I should say, the "million dollar mamas" are out of control. Let's discuss the first couple featured last night: The mama is 36 weeks prego, and her and her "husband" are in complete denial about the impending arrival of their child. And BTW -  I put "husband" in quotations because although they flashed a wedding photo from when the couple was allegedly married, well... let's just say his ideal partner might not be female...definitely questionable in the gender preference department (and if you saw the show, you know EXACTLY what I am talking about!). Anywho... so this nutcase of a couple don't want to set up a nursery because it will be too colorful, too loud (they hate the sound of children's toys) and ultimately cramp their "sleek, sophisticated" style. When asked if she had bonded with her baby yet (reminder: she is 36 weeks prego and about to pop), her response is a flat out, "No." She said she couldn't waste her energy thinking about and bonding with a child that isn't even here yet (to which her "husband" nodded dramatically). So the Pregnancy Concierge brings over a psychologist to basically tell them they are certifiably crazy - with whom they finally agree. The mama seemed to relish in the idea that she is nuts, probably because she thinks that makes her unique.  BTW: You totally know those kind of people... the ones who dramatize every moment of potential anxiety by pouting, rubbing their faces and making everyone else around them feel like they too should be stressed to the max about anything and everything - from boarding an airplane to making a sandwich -- and love the attention it brings their way. And if you don't know a person like that, there is a good possibility it may be you : ) So at the end of the show, just when I'm about to call Child Protective Services on these crazy folks and am hoarse from screaming at the TV, they show the mama and "husband" with their newborn child, who they are loving on like crazy and seem to have bonded with. They even show the toys the couple purchased as proof the new parents finally acknowledged that the baby was a permanent addition and might new a few items of comfort around. And even though all seemed well in their world, I have to wonder if they see how selfish and nutso they were just 4 weeks earlier? My guess is no... and that they've already enrolled the baby in twice-weekly piano and violin lessons , with math and french tutoring every other day. Once a crazy, always a crazy.

And don't even get me started about the second couple that was featured, who described themselves as a "power couple". VOMIT!  The husband reaffirmed this by saying how just the other night he was at a party talking with "Mayor Bloomberg and Tom Brokaw". And I bet if you ask Bloomberg or Brokaw about this alleged conversation they certainly wouldn't respond with, "Oh! That wonderful man that is half of a Power Couple! So intriguing!" No... they would say, "Who? Oh, that guy? You mean he wasn't the waiter or bartender?" So as the story goes, this couple decided they needed to commission a focus group to help name their first born son - you know, so he would have a distinguished name and align with the "family brand." Except when the focus group didn't agree with their names of choice, then the power couple decided this group of business leaders just didn't understand what it meant to be affluent and "powerful". I don't even remember the name they decided on... probably something like George Willard Abraham Theodore Sylvester the IV. Becasue we all know it is a person's name that truly determines their life path... : )

So, in a nutshell, the show is a whole truckfull of crazy. But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't going to watch next week. Afterall, it's good to see how normal we all seem when compared to complete foolishness.

Baby, You Are a Pain in My Va-jay-jay

I've been out of commission for a few days. And by out of commission, I mean I couldn't walk without wincing. The problem? My va-jay-jay. Specifically, the stabbing pains shooting down from my uterus/cervix. Earlier last week, just as I was dipping my toe into the third trimester, I got the 20-lb watermelon sensation just like last time. You know, the feeling that if you get up too quickly, walk to fast, or sneeze the wrong way, a 20-lb watermelon may fall out of you. And that is uncomfortable enough. But after an afternoon excursion to Ikea, followed the next day by a 5 mile walk with the fam, my cervix had given up trying to hold up the watermelon. And now, instead of discomfort, I literally have shooting pains like lightening bolts. Enough to bring tears to my eyes. I figured I just needed some rest and spent all of Sunday in bed, with my feet up. And - Thank You Jesus - it seemed to have worked. The Watermelon is back, with only sporadic bolts of lightening.

During my self-imposed day of rest, I decided to consult my medical team (aka Google) re: my condition to see if any other women were experience the same thing. And lo-and-behold, they were. Many of them. Enough so that 4 pages of results came up from the search query "shooting pains int he va-jay-jay". Hallelujah for not feeling like I'm the only crazy prego out there! Of course I'm going to ask my doctor about it next time I go - which is quickly approaching the 2-times-per-week phase. But in the meantime, I feel comforted by the responses I found on Google, which indicated the shooting pains were a result of the ligaments loosening up as the body prepares for delivery. Nice.