First of all, a great miracle happened here, and the random stranger canceled and did not come to stay with us. (As an aside, when I was a little girl, my dad always read us a story about King John, who was not a good man, but who one christmas said over and over again "Please, Father Christmas, if you love me at all, bring a big red india rubber ball." Father Christmas did bring it to him, by the way. Last night when Mr. E was getting the voice mail I found myself saying over and over to myself "Please Lord, if you love me at all, let this loser not come stay with us." And he didn't, and it was awesome.) Kind of scary how happy it made me.
Secondly, reading over the comments I did have a bit of revelation.
You guys are right.
Even though I knew, intellectually, in my head, that I am pregnant, and not fat, I still felt fat. It is hard for me because at times being pregnant feels so much like what it felt like to get fat in the first place that it is difficult to remember that it's not the same thing. And it's really not. This time the point is not how good I look or how round I am. The point is to have a healthy baby and I have a healthy pregnancy and I am a lucky lucky woman. I am able to have a child. Some people never get that.
I cannot imagine the heartbreak of losing a child, and in the face of that, it seems really selfish and stupid to complain about being fat. But even more so than that, it's not correct. Being pregnant is not being fat. It's being pregnant. Two totally separate things.
So I apologize. I apologize for bitching about being fat. I'm going to start being grateful for being pregnant and having a healthy pregnancy. I'm going to start remembering that I am getting bigger FOR A REASON. Thanks for the wake up call.
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