“So I see you’re expecting.”
I never lost the baby weight. My stomach is still protruded. Despite months of strict diet and faithful exercise, I couldn’t lose a pound, couldn’t lose a dress size. I am a perpetual 6-month-pregnant blimp. I was never a “big” pregnant woman, but what I was is how I’ve remained post-baby.
And so I get these questions and comments. They hurt because they remind me I have had babies inside of me before, but not now, and I have nothing to show for the 55 pounds I gained. It’s like the weight is holding on, still anticipating a baby before it lets go.
I think I was most irked by this woman’s comment because I felt like she should know better. I guess the priest who had arranged for us to stay with her while we were in town for Palm Sunday services didn’t warn her. I guess she didn’t put two and two together when, a little panicked, the priest called her while we met with him to inquire if her pregnant daughter and 2-year-old had moved out yet–they had just moved that day, thankfully. He had forgotten that that would be intensely difficult for us. I guess she didn’t wonder at all that he asked about that, and her first comment when we met was to congratulate me on my pregnancy.
I always want to talk about my son, but I don’t want to have to talk about him like that. “Oh no, not pregnant, just still fat after a depressing year+ of losing babies.”
It would be easy to say that maybe others shouldn’t jump to pregnancy conclusions, but among Orthodox women, it’s usually true, so I can’t really blame her for that.