Bob (father-in-law): "Are you showing? Ooh! You'll have to send us a picture."
Me: "Umm..."
Bob: "Come on! We want to see our grandchild!"
Me: "Well... you'll see him when he comes out, right?"
I've never been one for full body selfies. I have a tendency to be pretty hard on myself when it comes to photos. When I look in the mirror I am totally cool with what I see, but photos always seem to capture a range of imperfections (not to mention a layer or two of blubber) that I am normally pretty adept at glossing over.
My sister was adorable throughout her pregnancy, taking cute photos every week to share with friends and family, and on her blog. I suggested having Scott pose for a similar series instead of me, but he wasn't into it. During the past few weeks I've gone back and re-visited Sarah's photos several times, comparing the growth of my own bump with hers, wondering if it's really as enormous as it feels. After sufficient scrutiny I have not come to a conclusion.
Maybe I'm being a stick-in-the-mud, but I just don't feel like the model of prenatal beauty. I feel OK, and for that I'm grateful, and my hair is awfully thick, which is... interesting. (It was already quite the carpet, now it's like a wool hat.) I've been steadily losing weight (much to the midwive's delight) which is a really REALLY odd thing to comprehend while you are simultaneously growing larger.
But I haven't lost so much weight that I feel any more confident regarding my overall body type. I'm still a chunky gal, and now my waist has pretty much abandoned me. With a belly that dwarfs my jugs, and a healthy pair of love handles erupting on each side, I feel more like a garden gnome than a maternal goddess.
I'm not all that caught up in the vanity, mind you. I'm actually pretty at peace with the whole surrendering my body thing, and like I said, when I look in the mirror I feel fine. So why am I such a grinch about photos? I suppose I'm worried that if I'm confronted with a bunch of pictures of my body I might sudddenly NOT be OK with how it is changing, and that's a pretty useless headache to give myself.
Then again, perhaps taking self portraits would be a good way to help celebrate the changes, and find the beauty that I haven't been taking the time to look for.
Damned if I know. Either way, Bob will see me and the bump in person next month, so I guess there's not much to worry about.
