It's like I started a blog and then like three people not related to me said they liked it and I freaked out and never posted again.
I titled my blog the way I did specifically so I wouldn't feel obligated to write long posts, or revelatory feminist posts, or posts about anything deeper than what I was experiencing and how I was feeling on any particular day. It's kind of like the trick of buying spiral notebooks to write in so you'll actually write in them instead of saving them for when you have something really meaningful to say (and then eventually giving them to goodwill because you never ended up having anything meaningful enough to justify sullying their lovely lovely pages). But then I actually worked really effin' hard on my first three posts! And I was like, shit, do I have to work this hard on every single post and make sure I actually have a point? And that freaked me right out, so I spent several weeks opening up Word and writing like, half a sentence, then closing it and doing something else: practicing Hypnobabies, going outside and hugging the horses (my favorite thing to do with horses, because they are so large and solid and smell so nice), exercising, playing Plants Vs. Zombies, chatting with the #teaspoons crowd, you know, whatever.
And now! Here I am! Actually writing again for god(dess(es)) only know(s) what reason, other than maybe I finally got over it and realized that writing is fun. So maybe I'll do this more regularly now! But on to something more relevant.
I think I'm finally showing! But still no one has mentioned it. I don't go out in public terribly often, just because the nearest anything is like five miles away and it's a gas station, and beyond that there are towns, but they're like ten, fifteen miles away. Even when I do go out in public, though, nobody says anything! I went to the Mall of freaking America, for duck's sake, and went into several stores and hung out with a friend of mine who I hadn't seen in like six years, and no one said anything! Even my friend couldn't tell. So maybe I am only showing in my mind. This sucks, because that Dr. Sears said it would be undeniable by the sixth month, which this is. My last period started on December 1st, so June 1st will mark six calendar months. If I'm not showing by then, I'll…you know, wait some more. My M-i-L calls my desire for people to know I'm pregnant just by looking at me vanity, but I think the deadly sin it's most akin to is pride. I'm growing a baby, damn it! I have more blood than I used to! My uterus is huge! There is a new human life forming in there! Zie is 13 inches long! Everyone who looks at me should be able to tell that, and be really impressed by my accomplishment.
In other news, I just found out about that Kate Gosselin person, and how her hair is widely considered to be hideous. This was slightly embarrassing to me since I shaved the back of my head a few weeks ago. Suddenly feeling ashamed of a haircut you liked up until then just because a bunch of people on the internet said a similar haircut was hideous? Now THAT'S vanity.
When I was pregnant I remember being really excited that I was finally showing. Unfortunately no one else thought I was showing that much. But of course, once your belly is more obvious to everyone else, suddenly your belly is now considered "community property."
ReplyDeleteAnd of course, you have every right to any pride you feel about your pregnancy. So vanity, be damned!