I sit here right now in my fleece zip up, after prego jeans and nasty uggs. Yes, my hair is clean, my skin moisturized, and I am actually shaved.
Let me better explain. 15 months ago I was enjoying the first real snow storm in Utah. My size 6 fanny was seated directly on the futon my husband and I bought (our first family room piece) before he graduated from college. We had been in our fixer upper home for over a year and we were planning a trip to Italy. Now for a girl of 22 life was pretty darn good. Around let's say middle of December I conceived. The months following that hot and steamy event my body began expanding.
In little ways at first. My perfect little DD bras soon began to get too snug and when I woke up in the morning I felt as though someone had given me a titty twister. This did little to distract me from my expanding butt.
I know someone may read this and say, "Well, at least you were able to get pregnant"-, but I am not complaining about being pregnant and having an opportunity to help bring into the world a little person. I am simply complaining about the disgusting things it can do to your body. I often think of the quote from the line in the Lion King. "No body know's the trouble I've seen...nobody knows my sorrow". When my family first were clued in to my pregnancy my grandma reminded me, "Now, remember you aren't the only person who is pregnant or ever has been." That basically sums this whole shinanigins up.
I may not be the only one, but I am sure all the others can wallow with me for a little while about it. After getting over the shock of being pregnant (I mean for crying out loud my husband and I don't even sleep in the same beds! ) I began to feel excited for those pregnancy clothes. "Oh when, oh when will I be able to buy those cute tops and rub a cute round tummy?" Little did I know what was coming around the corner. "Little" is the word of focus here. There was not a little anything thing, except for a 'little' baby growing inside me that I imagined looking something between a hybrid seahorse and a frog. By the way, who ever said we evolved from apes? Has anyone ever investigated Frogs? I mean sperm looks like tadpoles right?
Anyways. It became perfectly clear that things were rounding out, when at about 16 weeks my 'fat' jeans came about to mid thigh. I had seen quite a few pregnant women in my life time. The ones with little round balls perfectly centered and balanced in the middle of their torso's and then the women who are repeatedly asked "Are you having twins?". I guess, I just always assumed that I would be one of the basketball belly moms. You know the toothpicks with the little altoid hanging in the middle. I don't know why I thought this. Those women were usually at least 5'7 w/ long legs and flat booties. I was 5'4 w/ dangerous curves-.
I remember the weighing of myself weekly, measuring how much I was supposed to gain--because I didn't want to be one of the popcorn moms--you know the before pregnancy women that conceives and puffs out like a kernel in an air popper? So I kept working out and watching what I ate. I read the "what to expect when expecting book" and nodded my head at the diet suggestions and told my husband how I wasn't going to be that stumpy mom who all of a sudden let herself go. I was better than that. I had class--for crying out loud I drive a used Honda!
I gibbered and jabbered to my vain heart's content. 15 months later all of this pre baby nonsense is sitting right on my butt and hips.
Babies are hard work. Keeping yourself from scowling is hard work and by Golly it is hard work getting a shower in while 24/7 being on call for the little person you helped conceive. For now my grooming methods will stay: Bathe 1 time daily, and brush teeth. Beyond that I don't think people should expect much from a new mom.