We have two kids: one boy and one girl. After one kid, my body bounced back to nearly pre-child conditions. After my second, it was similar, except one thing. Where I used to gain all my weight in my cheeks and hips, I now gain all my weight in my uterus. So I am constantly walking around looking like I am just about to make a big announcement. I never wanted to be, but I am now one of those people who “suck in”—not because I want to appear skinnier, but because I really don’t want you to embarrass yourself by asking me when I am due, and how wonderful to have a third on the way.
You may think I am exaggerating, but it is the gonna-have-a-baby-looking truth. In fact, one evening a few months ago I was changing into my PJs and I let that burrito belly relax for a minute. I caught a glimpse of it in the mirror and thought, “Ugh, I look so pregnant.” I examined closer in full relaxation mode, and thought, “That looks like I’m ready for a gender-revealing ultrasound…am I pregnant?”
I asked my husband, and he did a double take. (He will never admit it, but I saw it!) “No, no…you don’t,” he wisely replied, and then he (again wisely) wandered away, likely panicking, because for real, I was looking nearly throw-me-a-baby-shower sized. I dug a pregnancy test out of a back dusty corner of our linen closet and thought about how I really really really need this line to be a boring horizontal. About how I will kill myself all the way home if it isn’t. About why I know we are done.
Here is what I came up with…why I know… after I peed on the stick and waited: Continue reading