This big corporate bank building where I am currently working has a vibe off its own. Taking up a couple of blocks of downtown, it has room to house quite a few fashion oddities, so at least once a day I see something that makes chuckle. Sometimes they’re just a little ironic, sometimes a little out of place, other are just outrageous. Seen recently:
 

1.       A woman wearing a pair of black patent leather boots that gave the distinct impression of being part of an S&M kit

2.       A woman wearing a two piece suit (but with ¾ length pants), all of leather. Tight leather

3.       What is it with the leather around here? Another leather pencil skirt

4.       You sometimes stores sell a suit with two options – pants or a skirt? This morning I saw someone wearing all three pieces at once. Pin stripes pants, covered by a pinstriped knee length skirt, teamed with the pinstriped jacket.

5.       A woman wearing an elaborate headscarf covering her hair and shoulders, I presume to preserve her modesty, but dressed from the shoulders down in skin tight apparel.

Not sure I have (m)any readers left, but those I do have are probably tired of my semi-melancholy pregnancy posts. I planned for this, prayed for this, got all frustrated when the universe didn’t oblige on command. And now here I am, 18 weeks pregnant with a healthy baby, no complications and I’m all miserable about the most superficial of things: How will I manage not to end up the fat blimp that I did last time.

To be fair, I seem to be in a general down in the dumps mood at the moment. A few things in addition to pregnancy hormones contribute to that, but I could stretch those out to another 3 posts, that – surprise – aren’t pregnancy related, so I will save those for now.

The beauty of a first time pregnancy, aside from all the worry, is the ignorance. I just didn’t know how my body would react to the weight gain, so it didn’t seem excessive. I had every reason to believe that my body would behave in the same manner it did to every other time I had picked up the odd couple of extra kg’s: watch what I eat for a bit, and it’d slip off. I also thought I would be back in the saddle after 6 weeks and back in competition after 3 months, easily taking up my 5-6 times a week horse-riding schedule again.

What I didn’t acknowledge is that 13 kg’s of fat is not a couple; my effortlessly trim figure probably had a big dependency on my horse-riding activities; and my horse riding activities would not resume their former schedule any time in my foreseeable future.

And a year carrying a fluctuating 7 – 10 extra kg’s killed my body image. It dipped my self confidence, changed my dress sense, stole my sexy and sowed the seeds of figure envy for every trim woman I meet, especially those with children.

And that’s what I am afraid of happening again. I know I can apply the logic that I did eventually loose most of the weight, but I didn’t lose it for long enough to be assured that I could keep it off, before I fell pregnant again.

 This time around, I’m worrying about losing the weight before I have even put it on. I’m on the scale every couple of days, I’m pre-resenting my decision to breastfeed because that means I won’t be able to start a diet the day the baby is born, I actively loathe the SA pregnancy magazine that always has the skinny pregnant women on the cover (even though it has the best pregnancy fashion bits) and I’m comparing myself to every other pregnant woman I see. And this is not right. This is not how a pregnancy should be.

But the knowledge I gained about my body in my last pregnancy doesn’t easily let me abandon all concerns during this one, and the fear of again becoming the green eyed monster when I realize I can’t fit into my working wardrobe after 4 months of maternity leave, well it scares me. I don’t like being that insecure that it makes me dislike people for no good reason.

There. Rant over. Now that I have told the world exactly how superficial I really am, maybe I can move on from this and start enjoying this pregnancy for the miracle that it is.

1. Less awe at baby’s development – we are no less amazed at the miracle growing inside me, but this time it isn’t like discovering a whole new thing. I was 12 weeks before I subscribed to a pregnancy calendar

2. Less fear of doing things wrong – I know this time that it’s difficult to break a baby. Not that I am taking unnecessary risks, but if something happens (Like catching myself several mouthfuls into the Biltong before remembering ‘Oh hay, this is dried raw beef’) I don’t beat myself up about it.

3. People treat you as less special. People swoon over first time pregnant women. Your second child? ‘Oh, that’s nice’

4. You treat yourself as less special. Let’s face it, there is a house to run, a job to do, and a toddler who wants your undivided attention. There is less time and energy to be spent on feeling and behaving pregnant. Because if hubby does meet you at the door, you’d rather he entertain the toddler for a few minutes than fret over him not carrying your bags like he did in the last pregnancy.

5. Less silly purchases – in baby stuff and in maternity clothes. By know you know what works for you.

6. No guilt free eating – last time I shoved my face full of everything I felt like, because of course I would be able to loose it all after. But 4 times as much fat as baby does NOT simply drop off when baby is born. And newborns put terrible constraints on your exercise times.

7. I have become painfully aware of how little weight some other pregnant women pick up – women who look fantastic 5 weeks, and 12 weeks post partum, and it took me 14 months and some drastic measures to get within short-sitedness of my pre-preg weight.

8. Enjoying my boys last few months of being a single child. He has no idea how life is going to change! And I can let him grow up without lamenting the loss of my baby boy, because he doesn’t need to be my baby anymore.

9. Knowing I will cope. I was a complete novice last time – no baby experience at all – it’s good not to be so worried about coping.

10. Where are my fantastic finger nails? My nails were the best they have ever been last pregnancy. This time they re their same old brittle splitting selves.

We told Aidan this week about his new sibling on the way. He is 21 months old, so has no idea what we are on about, but tries to repeat what we say anyway, with some amusing results:

“Aidan is getting a yittle mister”
“Aidan is getting a master”
Before finally pulling of “Aidan is getting a sister”.

But the reaction of laughter he got from the “Aidan is getting a master” comment means that he still deliberately uses that mispronunciation sometimes

Yes my boy, we are all getting a new master, if my recollection of your early days is correct!

What happens if I have a baby girl who isn’t as beautiful as my little boy?

A baby girl!

We found out today that Aidan is getting a little sister and we’re getting a whole world of chaos all over again.

Estimated due date 18 December, so for anyone wondering that makes me just past 16 weeks

We’re so happy!