oracle bone

as much as i admit that at times i find the “are you sure you’re pregnant? you’re not showing at all!” flattering, there is a part of me that bites back every time. 

yesterday i was compared to a regular customer at the restaurant i work at (which is a healthy, fresh-food based restaurant specializing in vegetarian dishes). it’s a place where you feel good before and after your meal (i mean... unless you order the onion rings. no one can help you then). 

“she was a similar height to you, pretty in shape, and then got pregnant and just BALLOONED, she is barely recognizable now. at least you, you hide your bump well, you don’t look like you’ve gained any weight at all!” 

first that isn’t something i’m proud of. i’ve had difficulty gaining weight because i’ve had terrible nausea and vomiting beyond the first trimester. i’ve never been so excited or proud of myself for finishing an entire plate of lentil stew and chard salad without having to run to the bathroom before, and i get excited because i know that food is going to my sweet little ewok as much as it is my own body. that’s a truly beautiful thing, and it’s something i wasn’t able to give my little one until the past week or so. i lost a lot of weight in my first trimester, and despite the baby being healthy and normal, i felt a lot of guilt for that. so i’m very happy for the little bump that i do have - it’s a sign that this kid is growing and thriving despite my own shortcomings. 

second to judge that woman, or any woman, for “ballooning” while pregnant seems very cruel to me. this time is such a magical, beautiful experience that is already clouded by societal expectations to stay in shape before, during, and immediately after baby. i struggle with my own growing skin and inability to slip into old skinny jeans. and why? surely that vanity is not as important as growing a healthy human being inside of you. 

the other day my coworker and i were discussing her new birth control method (IUD), and since she seemed eager to talk, i asked her questions... “so, what made you decide to switch to an IUD?” 

“well, hearing your story, about getting pregnant when not planning to, and at such a young age, it really hit me. i’m not ready to have a kid, and i don’t want to be like you.”

i’m not sure she realized how much force her answer knocked my stomach with. i contemplated walking away, but i forced my limbs to remain in place. i’m  very aware of the potential social taboos that having a child at 23 has. especially when one, outwardly, appears to be working at a restaurant on minimum wage for the most of her summer. i’m aware that it looks dicey. i’m aware that i’m not going to be able to provide my child with a four-storey house. but i am not okay with being some pregnant warning label for twenty-somethings, i am not okay with people thinking i didn’t want my child, and i am not okay with people using my body and my choices in a way that twists my reality into something more seedy.  i am not ungrounded. i am not an anomaly. when my child is born, i will be 24. i will be in the midst of getting my doctorate in a field that is filled with opportunity and creative potential. i am happily with my partner of over two years. i am passionate about my life, my directions, and the friends i’ve surrounded myself with. i have never stopped writing poetry, because my heart will always be rooted with it. i have so much joy and warmth in my life, and this sweet, innocent little thing will only make it all the more filled.  i was scared for the first few weeks, because i didn’t know what to expect. but things begin to unfold and sort themselves, as if enchanted by a magician. some people have leapt to support and exclaim how proud they will be to be aunts and uncles. some people, like my coworker, have chosen to expose their own fears and doubts in their reactions, and i refuse to be brought down by them. 

so i said -  “you know, i’ve never been more happy in my life. this is the first time i haven’t felt afraid in a very long time.”