31 weeks to the 40 weeks (a week late)

So last week I was all into the feeling beauty in my purpose BS. I would even go so far as to say I was feeling goddess-like. This past week was more about feeling fat in my own fatness. With a few glimmering goddess moments. High highs and low lows this here emotional rollercoaster.

Now don’t get me wrong, I’ve gained a healthy normal amount of weight (hope that continues to be the case). I’m not in heifer territory. But it’s a hard thing to contend with, this pregnancy weight gain. Because you just watch the scale go up and up, higher than it ever has before, while your body feels foreign in every way imaginable. And you know you’ll never really be the same. But you hope to come close. Though you find that hard to imagine.

Being pregnant is definitely a beautiful, awe-inspiring thing. The fact that your body can create and grow life is straight up amazing. And in that, I should find beauty in the child bearing hips and widening rear end, right? Well sometimes, maybe, sure, I guess. Beauty in the purpose. Repeat after myself, beauty in the purpose.

But other times? Not so much. Other times you just feel FAT. And not PHAT, that’s for sure. It also doesn’t help when you go to buy maternity pants in a fluorescent every-bulging-vein-in-your-body-on-display environment and the pants barely pull up past your knees and you are like “WTF happened, I was a goddess 2 minutes ago?!”. Yea, self esteem comes crashing down, despite knowing in your mind that you are healthy and your baby is healthy and that’s all that matters. Well, your vanity and emotional frailty combat with that healthy rationale. 

It also doesn’t help when the subject of your weight is a topic that people feel they can freely and openly discuss just because you’re pregnant. Well how about I ask YOU how many pounds you’re packing? Tell YOU that you’ve gained enough weight, don’t gain anymore? Tell YOU that YOU look like you’re about to pop? How about that?!?!!??! And I swear if one more person comments on my winter jacket being too tight, I may bite their head off (even if it goes straight to my hips).

All that being ranted… 9 weeks to go!