[I'm vain.]
This confession has been eating at me for some time now. In true-confession style, it fills me with tremendous guilt. It makes me feel weak and superficial. And to those of you who don't share my neurosis, I apologize. Because in admitting this hang-up I'm letting go of it. Truth is I wasn't cool about gaining weight. Why? Because as much as I enjoy eating. (And believe me. I enjoy eating.) I also enjoy exercising. And I've taken pleasure in the fact that I've been able to maintain my weight for many years by eating healthy and staying physically active. It's in no way an obsessive thing. It is, I admit, a control thing. And very little has compromised that control until now. For obvious reasons. I'm now 36 weeks pregnant. A rounder, bustier version of myself. A baby apartment with a tenant whose lease is up in four weeks.
I wish I could tell you that I was one of those girls who embraced getting bigger. Or at least one of those girls at peace with their bodily transformation. But it took me 36 weeks 30 pounds and some serious pregnancy pains to realize (as my mother says) that my body isn't mine right now. It's Henry's. For as much as I've kept a level head about most things baby-related, including the difficulty and unpredictability of labor followed by the difficulty and unpredictability of motherhood I've regarded my body with a rigorous and unforgiving attitude. A merciless iron-fistedness rooted in an inability to relinquish control in an area of my life that I've thus far been able to control. That's not to say that these measures haven't served me well. Since the day I learned I was pregnant I've slathered myself in cocoa butter. Why? Because I don't want stretch marks. And while there's no definitive proof that cocoa butter makes a lick of a difference in this department, I was willing to invest in the stuff for nine months. (So far I'm stretch mark-free.) I ran up until my 30th week. Why? Because I felt great. I had energy. The baby was still small and I wasn't ready to slow down. I refused to drop out of my regular yoga class and into a milder, less demanding prenatal yoga class. Why? Because I could still twist into a lotus position and kick up into a handstand. I avoided fast food, ate more fruits and veggies drank buckets of water and returned to eating chicken. Why? Because I needed to make up for my once-a-day coffee habit. I thought that by continuing on this path I'd avoid the third trimester waddle. I thought I'd be spared stabbing sciatic nerve pangs sleeplessness bruised ribs throbbing pelvic pain hormonal mood swings ravenous chocolate cravings Every cartoonish pregnancy cliche I could think of, I thought I could stave off. The naiveté! I entered my eighth month of pregnancy and in one humbling rush of relaxin I morphed into Pregzilla. And in the face of pain, I let my pride and vanity slide. The ailments I mentioned above? I got 'em all. Last week, I bowed out of regular yoga and slipped into the prenatal class next door. I know the teacher. She's been nudging me to make the jump for some time now. "Well, well" she said. "I'm glad to see that you're finally pregnant." I growled. Flashed my Pregzilla teeth. Blew smoke out my nostrils. I looked around the class. The two girls next to me were both due in three days. The teacher had us sitting on birthing balls. Spread eagle. We looked like snowmen. Balls stacked on top of balls. We were told to roll our hips from side to side and picture our pelvises widening. I pictured my pelvis breaking in two. Snapping like a wish bone. I pictured Elvis sweating on stage in his rhinestone jumpsuit Fat Elvis and his famous pelvis making big-haired ladies swoon even in his last days. We looked like Weebles. Roly-poly gyrating Weebles. "How you feeling?" The preggo next to me asked. "Bah," I grumbled. "My kid's foot is in my rib. I just got over bronchitis. My freakin tail bone is throbbing. I can't sleep at night and every time I sneeze I pee my pants." "I hear ya," she said. "You swollen?" I smiled. I hadn't thought about the fact that the Fluid Fairy had yet to sprinkle me with water retention. "No swelling," I said. "Check this out," she said, hiking up her yoga pants. Her legs were tree trunks. "Holy crap," I said. "Yeah," she sighed. "I've been this way since day one." "Does the yoga help?" I asked. "Sometimes," she said, letting out an exhausted half-chuckle. "You get used to it." It was in this moment that I realized, or rather appreciated, the weight we carry as women. It's the kind of weight you can't measure in pounds. And it's something I didn't fully appreciate until I got pregnant. The weight of responsibility, sacrifice and trust. The weight of acceptance. Because no matter how much we bathe in cocoa butter or how much time we devote to yoga, there's only so much we can control in pregnancy. In the end, we all end up on birthing balls aching to see our babies aching to see our toes Hoping our pelvises don't break in half and mastering the ancient art of sucking it up. --- PS. Top photo is of my sister Heelya rocking her little red high heels on Thanksgiving.
Thank you for being so truthful on this. It’s so easy to find the opposite feelings on every website.
My confession: I’m almost glad I can’t have children and will be adopting so I don’t have to lose control. I have much respect for those who do but I think I’d lose my mind.
I can’t believe little Henry will be here in 4 weeks! Congrats momma!
So glad to see you have made peace with something you have absolutely NO control over. The sacrifices made are fewer than the rewards you’ll experience from here on out. Having you 3 girls has made my life sweeter. As children you were my daughters. Now as adults you not only are daughters, but also my best friends. Can’t imagine it any other way, except maybe having all of us living closer together.
The countdown begins… 27 days to go (minus or plus a few days)… time for the real fun & games to begin!!!
Is it wrong that I stopped reading because I couldn’t stand all the centered text? It drives me CRAZY!
Hey guys –– let me know if Joe’s on to something. I’ve wondered if I should use a different font and not center the text, especially on longer posts.
Does centering render the posts unreadable?
Be honest. I’ve got no problem restructuring the text.
I guess because I’ve had to adhere to the stringent rules of journalism for so long, I enjoy taking creative writing liberties on The Lance. This includes manipulating paragraph alignment.
Thoughts?
Heidi-
YOU ARE GORGEOUS! Just as gorgeous as you were before little henry took the lease to rent out that space:) I can’t believe it is only 4 weeks til he is here! When he is here….Let me know what you and Joe would like for dinner one night….It is on us!
Heidi, I laughed very hard at your brave comments in this point (and you know I don’t whip out the word “very” for just anyone!)
The last bit is the hardest – I admire you!
-Kat
P.S. I agree with your husband. The italicized center text is enough to make one go mad.
Heidi,
Love the post. Where once was an independent, thin, hairless, attractive young girl in control of her own life, now stands a soft, round, cherubic woman, bursting at the seams as a new life finds its way into the universe through her body.
This is the first post of yours I’ve read, so I thought it was a poem and that’s why it was centered. So, that’s how I read it. It works very well as a poem, just needs a better rhyme scheme. But, yeah, if all your posts are centered, that’s kinda fuckin’ weird.
P.S. In case you didn’t know, vanity’s a sin.
Seriously Joe, I didn’t even notice the center text until you mentioned it in the comments. I was just so taken with the beautiful honesty of Heidi’s writing. You should be thankful to have such a “centered” wife. Lovely.
I disagree about the text… Sometimes it adds a poetic touch, like I’m reading a long, hysterical haiku 🙂
On the baby front – It is no secret that I have scoffed at children in the past but not so different future. But children are SO freaking cute right now…my uterus is turning into a ticking time bomb!
Lucky you! In four weeks you will be having the most wonderful experience of your entire life! (barring of course any more children you may have) 😀
PS the centered text doesn’t bother me – it actually makes me read slower, which is a good thing.
Why are my shoes the pic for this one? P.s. They look so dirty!
Love the ‘baby apartment.’
Agree left-aligned text would be best. Leave the font as is 🙂
Heidi,
I LOVE the way the text is centered. In fact, every time I come here, as I read, I can hear you pausing. I can hear an inflection in your voice, carried out through the sentences and I like that. It makes me take it all in and appreciate it so much more. So much, in fact, that I often think of changing the layout on my blog. Please keep it.
And please keep writing beautiful HONESTY like this. I, too, think if I do everything “right” and “healthy” I will avoid everything we women are afraid of in pregnancy. I needed this reminder.
Heidi by all means continue to take creative liberties when writing. Until pointed out to me I hadn’t even noticed center alignment on page. Guess I was to busy enjoying the story and feeling each word written. I personally LIKE your style used and think maybe because your posts don’t resemble some everyday newspaper print and format I like them EVEN better. I’m in agreement with Jennifer, Caitlin & especially Liz. Your posts and perhaps your style are the reason people keep wanting more and more from you. It’s as if you are personally having a one on one conversation with each reader.
Love your post , don’t change a thing you’ve got a terrific style of writing and it makes each lance interestiing reading. I feel like you’re right here in my kitchen having our usual conversations. I’m getting excited to hear the news that our 4th great grandson is here. God love you and we wish you and Joe all the best.
It’s the honesty like these that make me not want to have children…. I’m all for adoption, why my husband would like to make me go through these tortures is beyond me……
As always Heidi BEAUTIFUL….. You have always had a way with writing ……. keep them coming, I’m sure you won’ be busy with Lance in about month for awhile
Henry is already lucky to have such a wonderful mama looking out for him and letting him take over her body already..because Heid, he’s had your heart from the begining. Love you bunches…now stop telling this kind of stuff or Henry may never have any cousins (from me that is)
PS-Heelya-Of course your shoes were in the picture. Don’t you remember how we cackled our heads off when you tried on 6 pairs of shoes for a “Mystery Afternoon” out. We were in the kitchen making sammies out of raw turkey.
PSS-Next year the boys will have a new team member on the scavenger hunt..that otta slow them down even more!
Heidi!
Thanks so much for all your pregnancy confessions. I’m pretty sure you inspired this confession of my own:
http://playingh.wordpress.com/2011/05/09/what-to-do-when-social-media-hurts-your-feelings/
As always, beautifully written and completely true. So glad to hear you’ve joined the rest of us (and by “us” I mean “me”) and gave in to the pregnancy. Of course I gave in around month two and I probably should have held out a lot longer. 🙂
This made me laugh hysterically and cry jealously in a 30-second span!!! Loved it!