Who you calling “tiny?”
At 32 weeks, I weigh 174.4 pounds. This is the most I’ve ever weighed in my life. Pre-pregnancy, I fluctuated between 152 and 157. When I became pregnant with my first baby, I got up to 165 before we lost her, and I didn’t lose the weight afterwards. With this baby, I lost ten pounds in the first trimester, gained two in the second trimester, and gained the rest of it after the start of the third trimester. Is my doctor worried? Not one bit. So I can’t figure out why people keep saying I’m “tiny.” Even my husband has told me I’m too small to be seven months pregnant. It gets annoying because I know I’m bigger than I’ve ever been, and it’s been difficult doing everyday tasks like emptying the dishwasher and putting on socks and shoes. Just because the rest of me didn’t plump out doesn’t mean I’m having a small baby. My doctor even said he’s measuring bigger than most babies at this point (though not big enough to cause any concern). And he is heavy, let me tell ya. I think people are just so used to seeing pregnant women fill out everywhere they don’t stop to think that each of our bodies reacts differently.
And another thing I’m tired of people saying is, “how do you feel?” I feel pregnant. I feel tired because I’m making a whole new person. That answer won’t change. And I know I’m still going to be tired after the baby arrives and wish people would quit telling me, “oh, being tired won’t change after the baby’s born.” I know! I’ve already raised five kids! People I see every day forget that about me. As the eldest of six children born into the lower-middle class, my parents worked all the time and I took care of my siblings. The only new experiences I’ll have are actually giving birth and breast feeding.
One more and I promise this rant is over. I wish people would quit asking, “Are you ready?” I’ve been “ready” since I was old enough to want children of my own, but you’re never truly ready for children because every day is filled with the unexpected.