Getting something off my chest. Plus boobs and vagina times.

I’ve read a billion times how strangers will touch a pregnant belly.  They think because a woman is making a baby and her body now belongs to the process of baby making, she must be totally open to a stranger touching her.  This wasn’t a problem for me, until last night.  It happened.  The stranger jumping at my belly and not leaving me alone.  My belly, the now largest part of my body.  The place between my now larger breasts and my vagina.  This space on my body is not for exploration.  No matter how curious you are, this is my personal space.  I was introduced to her and less than 15 seconds later her hand was on my bump.  Lady, I met you, but you are still a stranger.  I should have reached over and placed my hand on her belly.  Maybe that would have gotten the message across.  I will do that next time.  Just touch them right back.  The thing is, she’d walk away and come back and do it again, I wouldn’t see it coming.  On my way out I said goodbye to my friends and she grabbed me, hugged me and did it again, the belly touch.  Why do strangers think that pregnant ladies are now your best friend?  We are not, we are now programmed to protect our young and your hand there is making me want to turn all ninja on you.  Strangers, please don’t touch my belly, or any part of me.  I don’t know you and if you do I won’t ever like you.  Ever.

However, my friends doing this somehow does not bother me.  Maybe that is because they always ask first.  Maybe I just have smart friends who know better.  Maybe because we have established trust in our relationship.  So friends, it is absolutely a thing that at least I personally would love to share with you.  Letting my college students feel my boy kick is maybe one of the most beautiful things I get to share with them.  Their faces and audible giggles of excitement remind me of the beauty of what is happening inside my body.  That is without question a comfortable and joyous moment for me.  Plus they always ask if they can touch.  I appreciate that respect.  Oh snap, it’s respect!  That’s what probably makes me feel so annoyed about strangers, there is no respect.

Speaking of respect.  The comments.  Maybe you would never touch a pregnant strangers belly, but would you say “Wow you’re big!”  Because this happens daily.  Daily.  Often multiple times a day.  So yes bartender at the wedding I went to, I am pregnant, and no I am not about to give birth, I have 3 months to go.  Or random person, I am positive that I am not carrying twins.  How do I know?  Are you an idiot?  I have listened to the heartbeat and I have seen the photos.  Yes I am big, you are a jerk.  You have no idea how big I am supposed to be or will be and I know I will get much bigger so stop making me feel like crap when I have months to go!

Perhaps you never thought that isn’t polite.  But, imagine every single day of your life being called big.  Every day, days where your emotions are running a little (or on a given day, a lot) on the sensitive side.  Honestly, what woman wants to be called big?  I guarantee the majority of us do not.  What would happen if those people took the millisecond to find the right wording?  Compliments like “Wow, you have a beautiful pregnant body” or “I can see that that life that is growing in you” would come out of those mouths and I would walk away feeling normal, not fat.   Truthfully any other way that says, “girl you look like you are growing but it’s because you are creating a human being and that is awesome,” works for me.  I get it, I’m big with child (and some select food deliciousness).  I am also a woman, and I’d like to still feel somewhat attractive, like every woman.

My husband is amazing, he tells me I look beautiful all the time.  It doesn’t matter that I don’t believe him.  Or that I feel like he has to say nice things if he wants me to be happy.  It’s powerful to have the man I love so deeply, love me and compliment me through this physical take over of my body.  Thanks Kurt for being good like that.

Let’s veer away from this rant and allow me to share too much, it feels like that time of the blog to do just that.

My boobs now touch my belly, or at least the skin heading towards my belly.  What the hell is that!  I have always had these delightfully small and perky breasts.  Admittedly I often thought they are too small and I had my fair share of complaining.  Even my little sister has bigger knockers than me.  But honestly, I look forward to the day that I do not have that boob crease feel in the summer time.  The sweaty in between.  Yuck.  I now think differently of those big chested girls.  I kinda feel bad for them.  No wonder they sleep in bras.  I hope to never ever have to sleep in a bra.  I like my boobie freedom.  Oh how the grass always seems greener.  I now know, my itty bitty titty life was good, even if Kurt’s giant hands made me feel like I was lacking fat in my chest.  I wasn’t lacking, I was perky and clean!

I can’t see my vagina anymore.  I want desperately to get waxed, but if you read an earlier post you’d remember the wax lady telling me that I better give it (sex) to my husband or she’d find him a young perky thing who would love to be my baby’s step mommy.  So I haven’t gone, I’m still mad at her for that inappropriate conversation while my legs were spread open on her table and hot wax was being applied to my privates.  I fear this lack of waxing makes me look out of control.  I had kept up with myself very nicely if I may say so, that is until I couldn’t see my vagina anymore, a few weeks now.  What is happening down there?  Well, I grabbed a mirror and was kinda mortified.  I looked like Yoko Ono in the 60’s.  That needed to be fixed.  But I couldn’t hold the mirror and trim at the same time.  Plus the reaching factor is starting to be an issue.  So I guessed.  And well, let’s just say I look like a small child ran wild with scissors.  There are bald areas and there are longer areas and there were a lot of laughs.  Uncontrollable laughs, tears falling from my face in a moment of realizing, if I go back to the wax lady now I have to explain what I did to myself!  I pray I don’t have to have my vagina looked at for a long time, so I can fix this hilarious “art project.”

Lastly, the worst part of this trimester so far is the acid reflux/heartburn.  It’s terrible.  I would rather go back to throwing up, at least it was over after that.  This just doesn’t end.  It feels like I have puke in my chest up to my throat and it’s full of the acid burn.  Pepcid AC is good, and I thank those people who created it.  Still this sucks. When I wake up at 3am and can’t lie back down because I am in so much pain.  I just sit up and wait for the medicine to kick in.  Boo acid reflux, I say boo to you.  But really, at this point in my pregnancy I realize these are sacrifices.  I will take them in trade of an awesome little boy who one day will run toward me shouting “mommy” and jump into my arms and give me a kiss.  I will never remember acid reflux or puking.  I will only think how amazing all of this truly is.  That’s what the acid reflux is for, that little kiss I will get day after day.

Through this blog I have been listening to music and my little man in me is dancing, rolling and kicking.  See if you like what he likes right now.  Coldplay – Every Teardrop is a Waterfall, Arcade Fire – Rebellion (Lies), Changing – The Airborne Toxic Event, Young Blood – The Naked and Famous.  These songs seem to get him really moving.  Smart boy!

Until next time friends, I hope you find your boobs not sweaty, your vagina well groomed and your compliments that contain the word big only for a man you like.

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4 thoughts on “Getting something off my chest. Plus boobs and vagina times.

  1. Aw, love this post. Most awesome big boobs trick? Wear a bra that pushes them up and together, sweet-cleavage-style, and get a sunburn on your chest. Go home, take off your bra and watch the red and white patterns on your chest change. Highly entertaining. (sigh)

    Love,
    someone who always feels that “boobs touching top of stomach” and “sweat between the boobs” thing. greener grass indeed.

  2. Kristen says:

    Two things, I too had the perky small boobs. Just wait til you have the baby and are breast feeding( if you choose and can) then you have much much less of a stomach and big (c cup) boobs, what a great year or month or whatever that is.
    I got waxed til the week before, during birth, I wanted to not confuse baby hair and mine! Where do you go? I have a great place.
    You are beautiful now and always. Believe me, I can tell you are going to miss this time. I would be pregnant for the rest of my life if I could, and yes I had reflux that made my life hell. So glad to hear you are really in the moment of this time. Are you doing yoga? It is so crazy amazing to be in the room with so many women in all stages of pregnancy. It is so good for your heart body and soul.

  3. Dez says:

    Next time you have an urge to “mow the lawn”, have Kurt hold the mirror! My hubby used to hold for me, or if you have a VERY good friend wear small undies & let them have at it. I still hate it when my boobs touch, it reminds me of them resting on my belly….gross!! wait until they roll into your armpits….Buahahahahaha!!

  4. Sabrina Wood says:

    I made it in a post and it was for my knockers! Funny. Since we are putting it out there, I have not worn a bra in over two months. I am admittedly addicted to the flower stickers. I want to kiss whoever invented them…maybe in touch her belly! Not!

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