Week 13: Cross your fingers …

One of the most obvious things that happens during pregnancy is your changing body. It’s obvious—in order to make room for a growing baby, your body has to change. But it’s always kind of surprising/alarming/depressing when your body finally does.
The problem is: When your body decides to start making room for your little peanut, it does so slowly. Now, that doesn’t seem like it would be a problem. And in many ways, it’s not. It’s better. You can (hopefully) avoid stretch marks in the process, and it’s way healthier to gain weight slowly, blah blah blah. What makes it kind of a bummer is that between the flat(ish) jeans-wearing stomach you have at week 5 and the adorable baby bump you have at week 20, there are a number of weeks where you just look … thick.
And maybe it’s not so much that you look thicker—it’s quite possible no one else really notices much of a difference, but you do. You can feel it. In the jeans that no longer button. The fitted tee that pulls in areas it never did before. The dress pants whose hooks no longer reach their eyes. It’s the “I feel fat” phase of pregnancy.
This past weekend, my husband and I took our daughter to Kansas City for a long weekend. I cannot begin to tell you how difficult it was to pack for this particular trip. The night before we left, I spent an hour trying on dresses, pants and shirts, and throwing most of them on the ground in a fit of early pregnancy body crisis. I didn’t know if the jeans I was going to wear on the road would fit for the trip back. Would the black pants I planned to don at Saturday night’s dinner agree to close? Or would I have to use my backup plan (a maternity dress)? After a long dress rehearsal of outfits and many exasperated sighs (complete with attempts to suck in my stomach), I decided on a few outfits and zipped my suitcase.
With our daughter, I was able to avoid switching over to maternity clothes until my 14th week of pregnancy—with a few assists by my beloved belly bands, which I highly recommend, by the way. I was hoping to do the same with this pregnancy. On this particular weekend, I was just hoping the clothes I brought still fit. Each morning of our trip, I said to my husband, “OK, here we go. Cross your fingers!” And each morning, miracle of miracles, my pants were able to zip shut! I did not have to use any of my backup outfits.
I’m nearly 14 weeks now, and I have not unpacked my old maternity clothes yet. Not that I’m afraid to—in fact, I can hardly wait. I remember the first time I slipped on a pair of maternity jeans. I walked down to my cousin’s classroom and said, “Why don’t I wear maternity clothes ALL the time?” I like to set mini goals—silly as they may be. And this first mini goal is nearly accomplished.
Next goal: figure out how to fix this prepubescent complexion. It’s so unclear; I’m worried I might get asked to Homecoming.