The Wonderful World of Pregnancy

(Clearly, I lied when I said I wouldn't write for a couple weeks. I admit it, and I don't care.) I was thinking about this blog this morning, and the title was going to be ironic. I don't feel bad compared to many other women, but there are some definite frustrations. Lately, my biggest is clothes. When I first started getting completely uncomfortable at work after sitting for two hours straight, Patrick and I went shopping. I have two gift cards to Gap (one of which I've been saving since my birthday) and a friend told me that they had really comfortable maternity clothes there. I went and found that they didn't have anything that really fit me well. I could have made do by rolling up my pant legs, but if you're going to spend $50 or more on a pair of pants, I think they ought to fit even if I am using a gift card. So I decided I'd save the gift cards for post-pregnancy when I wanted nice things and when they'd probably have more options.

We next went to Wal-Mart and I actually found a pair of jeans for $20 that was comfortable and I liked and that only need to be rolled up a little or not at all (depending on the shoes). They didn't have a lot of options either so I went and bought a pair of sweat pants that are super soft and comfortable. Later, Patrick's mom sent a pair of exercise pants, so I have three pairs of comfortable pants total. I felt okay with that at the time and figured I'd get something more later. Frustratingly, after about a week the stupid jeans ripped on the stretchy part around the waist and the sweat pants are torn on a seam. They're probably both easily fixable, but I think maternity clothes ought to last on their own for the duration of the time a woman needs to wear them-- after all, it's only six months or so.

As for shirts, I looked at Shopko when we were there for something else and came to the conclusion that there is a perception that pregnant women have less concern with modesty than non-pregnant women-- all the shirts were super low-cut and I've given up on most of my undershirts as straining across my belly too much. Otherwise, I did pick up two maternity shirts at DI that are fairly classy, but they're looking at the seventh or eighth month and not a woman in her fourth month. I wore one, which I felt was pretty flexible and which Patrick and I both thought looked good, but we agreed at the end of the day that it screamed, "In case you didn't know, I'm pregnant!!" So I've reshelved it for now.

So, I have become pretty well content with T-shirts lately. I decided today (and this is when I started picturing this blog) that I was sick of T-shirts and would wear something nicer, especially since T-shirts no longer conceal my growing belly. I pulled out a button down and found that it strained awkwardly and emphasized the growing feeling that this excess belly is fat and not baby. So I threw that onto the discard pile and pulled out something else that is more flexible but still nice. We're going to Patrick's mission reunion tomorrow night, so I'd like to dress nice, and we're watching General Conference on Saturday and Sunday which I like to dress nice for even if we just watch it at home since it helps me pay attention. And then there's a banquet on Tuesday for my department that I'd like to look nice for. Clearly, I'm going to have to remedy this situation in my free time or start doing laundry more often.

Furthermore, even though I know a woman is supposed to gain 25-35 lbs through her pregnancy and that my belly getting bigger is a good thing (in moderation), it's still hard to accept that this is okay. I know that this is completely unfair to a lot of people, but I can't remember growing out of my clothes due to increasing width, only increasing height (and that stopped awhile ago). This new kind of growth is a little scarry. It doesn't help that I know my diet isn't amazing. I drink milk, eat yogurt, get fiber from bread, have protein in eggs, peanut butter, and meat, and I eat fruit well too, but I also eat sweets and I don't have very many green vegetables. It's just hard to know if it's me causing the weight or it's the baby growing. I've been telling myself that when I feel the baby move and I really feel like there is a child growing inside of me, I won't feel so self-conscious, but I recently went to a baby shower for a girl who is very petite and eight months pregnant and she kept describing herself as a "whale" (though she looks very cute and pregnant) which makes me think that you could pretty much feel this way and worse until the baby's born. It makes me suppose that I'm going to have to get a grip and accept this or I'm not going to enjoy this period of my life as much as I should. After all, I know that it is pretty incredible.

It was particularly incredible today when I felt a sort of tic inside my stomach. I thought it was weird, but then it happened several times, and I thought, "Maybe that's the baby!" Other people have described it as flutters or strange-feeling gas, but this felt like a tic. At first I thought I wouldn't tell anyone except Patrick since I don't know for sure, but then I thought, "What the heck. Who's to tell me it's not the baby anyway." So I've come to the conclusion (deluded or not) that I felt my baby move which I have been hoping for since my last doctor's appointment when the nurse and then the doctor asked if I had felt any movement and told me I could feel it any time. Thus, while "the wonderful world of pregnancy" came to me with gritted teeth this morning while I looked at my wardrobe, this afternoon it seems completely bearable and, yes, even wonderful and amazing after all.