It’d be ok if Lorso skipped this post. And also maybe my dad.

Quite amazingly, I think, I still forget for whole chunks of the day that I am pregnant. Mind you, I am now definitely showing. And out of the first trimester.

But you know what brings me out of my forgetfulness faster than anything? Hot guys.

Oh who am I kidding. Age-appropriate guys. Really, that’s all it takes. If it is conceivable that a male in my presence and I could be a couple in some other life where I haven’t been married for almost seven years, I wonder what he thinks of me. Like, does he think I’m hot? Funny? Smart? Hot? Most of the time I like to pump myself up and imagine that in his head he’s saying “Damn, she’s taken. Well, no WONDER. I only hope someday to find a woman who can take my breath away as she does.” And then I imagine him staring wistfully after me as I walk away from his cash register at Chick-Fil-A. (I’m telling you, I do it EVERYWHERE.)

And though chances are (c’mon) pretty good that this was actually happening in male heads everywhere before, nowadays the belly belies that fantasy. It’s like having being pregnant makes you asexual. Ain’t nobody want a piece of that. I’m not just taken, I’m inhabited. I think I even scare some guys. And it doesn’t help that most of my clothes are ill-fitting and my tiredness leaves little time for personal grooming these days either.

Don’t get me wrong, I think it’s just about the most amazing thing ever (EVER) that I have the ability to grow another human being in my body, and I am forever in awe of that gift.

But damn do I feel pretty fat and unattractive during most of the process.

Obviously, I am not on the market – bun in oven or not – but I think everyone, no matter what their attached state, wants to feel like they are in some way attractive to the people they encounter. And that attractiveness most often shows when we feel good about ourselves. To be fair, I do feel pretty comfortable in my own skin a good amount of the time. I just find that it gets harder as that skin stretches to the point of popping.

BUT, I’ve always got my Lorso, who will tell me I’m beautiful even as I lay propped up on a couch with elephantine legs and a nose the size of Montana. And I’ve got Bug, who would love me best even if I had two heads and potatoes for ears. And his enthusiasm can be catching.

The other day as he was hugging me goodbye at school he stopped and said “Bye Mama. I love you! And I love the baby! And I love my daddy!” He let go and started to leave but then he turned back and said, “And I love myself!”

“You do?” I said. “That’s great, Bug.”

He smiled and ran for the door but then turned one last time and yelled back, “It’s good to love yourself, Mama!” And then he was gone.

And I knew he was right. And it made me feel better.

2 comments

1 Allen { 04.24.08 at 9:53 pm }

If I ever reach the point of NOT turning day labor heads I shall become a recluse…….maybe that’s what happened to my mom

2 wendy { 04.25.08 at 8:16 am }

i have a friend who thinks that pregnant women are the hottest thing on earth… i could put you in touch… but then lorso might come hunt me down and kill me…

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