Romanticizing Pregnancy

When I was a girl, I always wanted baby dolls for Christmas.  Usually several.  I always loved baby dolls and playing mommy.  The Christmas I was either 8 or 9, I started pretending that I was pregnant the month or so before Christmas, knowing that I was going to get baby dolls soon.  Mostly, I did it at home having the vague sense that pretending to be pregnant at school would probably get me in trouble.  I would walk tilted, jutting my belly out and putting a hand on my rounded stomach every now and then.  I would imagine that I could feel my baby (or babies) kicking.  I loved it.  I couldn't wait to really be pregnant.  Of course, my mom found me out and yelled at me that that was not an okay game to play, which I didn't quite understand, but in my mind, I maintained this fantasy.

I have romanticized pregnancy ever since and until very recently, I never knew quite why.  No matter what people told me about how painful and unpleasant pregnancy was, I always wanted to be pregnant anyway.  I mean, now that I'm married, we have a plan that does not include babies for another four or five years, but I still yearn to be pregnant.  In one of my classes this semester it suddenly occurred to me why this was.  I wanted to be pregnant because it was the one time that it was okay to be fat.  It is the one time of your life that you could wear shirts that show off your big belly, instead of hiding it.  It is the one time of your life where strangers touch your belly and get a happy look in their eyes.  It is the one time of your life where you can eat whatever you want at whatever time you want and people treat you like you are doing something wonderful and selfless.  I wanted to be pregnant because it was the only way that I thought I could be fat AND happy.

~Mrs. Sprat