I heard your exciting news on the radio this morning and I want to congratulate you. Apparently, you’re expecting a massive weight gain! I was under the impression that you were expecting a baby, but that ridiculous assumption was cleared up right away by those lovely DJs. I am obviously misguided in my (warped?) impression that pregnancy was all about creating a baby and growing a family. How silly of me.
Becoming a mother to Maxwell means you’ve done this before, so you can head into this new pregnancy with a few little lessons under your belt. (That’s if you can do it up at all, because according to the media, you’re E-NOR-MOUS.) What lessons do these
doctors DJs think you should have learned, you ask? Well, certainly not how to deal with feeling like your uterus is falling out and your boobs are about to explode. Definitely not how to dress and walk in such a way that you still feel beautiful even though you’re waddling like a constipated duck. If you think it’s how to avoid the biggest pimple-attack since puberty or the Google-Maps-inspired varicose veins on your legs, you’d be wrong too.
You see, Jess (can I call you Jess?) even though you are making a whole new person, housing this person in your body and preparing yourself to also be the sole manufacturer of all the food for this little person when he or she comes out – all while simultaneously managing to be a functioning human being – the big lesson you’re supposed to get here is this:
Don’t get fat again.
Because that’s the most important thing of all. Never mind the baby’s need for nutrients and your body’s needs to replenish it’s own supply – you have to be thin. You must only eat a lettuce leaf a day and exercise that damn lettuce leaf off before it so much as thinks of settling on your thighs. Don’t even consider giving me that stupid, “it’s not about me, it’s about my baby” argument because nothing in the world is as important as being thin. Which means that after the baby is born, you may not breastfeed and you have to exercise for six hours a day. Every day. Want to bond with your baby? Don’t be ridiculous. Who has time for that? What do you think nannies are for?
I do have good news, though. When you do lose all that baby weight, those radio DJs and magazine editors will love you again. They’ll print pictures of your “Incredible Weight Loss After Baby!” and nobody will joke about you having your own gravitational pull ever ever ever again.
And that will be worth it. Even if your children call your nanny, “Mama”.
Alternatively, Jess, you could tell those media asshats to shove it. Enjoy your pregnancy. Look after yourself and your baby. Eat a piece of chocolate. Put your feet up for five minutes. Be happy. And know that there is an army of mamas out there, just like me, who are fed up with this ignorant, damaging judgement of women based purely on their size. Regardless of how big or how skinny you get.
With love (and a chocolate-coated pickle),
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This post is in response to Daily Prompt: Audience of One