When I Sit Around the House, I Really Sit Around the House

Today on Slate, I find an entirely new way to humiliate myself, i.e. I admit that my pregnancy physique is far from fit and I have a complex about it. I’m posting this link WHILE eating pizza and watching Gilmore Girls, by the way. This week my editor is out of the office, and I have been getting AROUND the magazine, and it’s been great. Here’s a quote!

My posterior—never petite—has, in what I am pretty sure is a miracle of medical science, kept protrusion-pace with my belly in such direct proportion that I am not so much upset as impressed. My “bump” is more of a Jabba-the-Hut-esque event,rivaled on my front only by my breasts, each of which is now the spitting image ofLord Voldemort’s head. And don’t get me started on my “glow.” Like many pregnant women, I’ve become anemic, so between the purple under-eye circles and the impressive array of graphic track marks from all the blood draws, I look like a cross between Gareth Keenan from the British Office and the cast of Trainspotting—except, you know, fat.

When you see me coming your way, better give me plenty space, etc, etc, etc.

7 thoughts on “When I Sit Around the House, I Really Sit Around the House

  1. I’m absolutely positive I’ve never read or heard any prego woman (I was tempted to write “person” but thankfully resisted) discuss her condition in quite the same fascinating spirit. You are remarkable. I wish you well in all your endeavors, which, I hope, includes teaching the soon to arrive kid German from birth.


  2. Loved your article. Hate to tell you, but the hunger that came along with breastfeeding was even harder for me to manage than pregnancy hunger. It felt bottomless.


  3. I hear you, I’ve got 5 weeks to go with my second. It takes my husband a lot of effort to avoid mimicking my second breakfasts and first lunches. Exercise = waddle. Attitude is more important than anything though, a little humor about it goes a long way.


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