Trying to Look Pregnant . . . Not Fat

It seems that currently the only pregnancy condition that is plaguing me is my increasing size. I haven't gained a lot of weight--only about 8 pounds, with only 1 in the last month since I've gone back to work. All of the weight seems to be centralized to my tummy. My size 8 pants have no hope of fitting (my one desire is to fit into them again post-delivery--we'll see how that goes). I'm slowly making the transition from larger size 12 and 14 pants into maternity pants. I have to admit the maternity pants feel so good. Here's hoping that continues to be the trend.

I'm in that weird in-between stage, while I'm getting a baby-bump, it's a small one. For anyone who doesn't know me, I look a bit plump in the tummy. And that is just not the message that I want to convey. So, until I have a bump that is definitely baby, I'm camouflaging as best I can. However, my previously flowy (pre-bump) tops are not so free-flowing these days. And, I'm just not big enough for maternity tops. Wearing jackets helps, but it's 90+ degrees around here, so jackets aren't always an option.

So, some days I embrace the bump. My co-workers know I'm pregnant. It was their judgment I feared for the first tw0-weeks back at work when I hadn't made the announcement. And, as I thought, afterwards I had a few come up to me and say they thought I must be pregnant because I had definitely put on some weight around the middle. One friend even confessed that when she saw me she had decided that if I weren't pregnant, then she was going to have to do an intervention. (I bet she'll help me get back into those size 8's.)

It's the students who don't know about my joy. For some reason I do care what 16 year-old girls think of my waist line and profile, but I guess time will tell them that I am pregnant. Hopefully, they'll be disgusted by my size and make wise choices. (And I bet the judging eyes of high school girls will be another motivation to get back into those size 8's. However, is it sad that I've already had the thought: I'll never wear an 8 again, I'll be happy to wear a 10. Am I already admitting defeat?)

Dave and I want to photograph the bump, but haven't come up with a tasteful way to do that just yet. (I hate my face in profile. And detest my often double-chin; I can't imagine what that chin is looking like these days.) But, we'll find a way. And in a few months, I'll be wistfully nostalgic as I remember the days in September when I was so small.