I just want the bump.
Looking at a picture of one of my friends and her newly emerging baby bump, I said, "Man, I want one of those!" Patrick looked up quickly. A sudden sheen appeared over his top lip, and a wild, panicked look besieged his face*. I assured him I was not talking about a baby (not necessarily, anyway). I want the baby bump.
Once he unclenched, relaxed, and leaned back in his chair, still shaking a little*, he asked why. I happily answered, "Because it's so cute! I've never seen a pregnant woman with a bitty baby bump that didn't look adorable. I want to be adorable!"
I thought to myself, no one has ever looked at my stomach after I've eaten a pretty righteous burrito and told me I look cute. But baby bumps? So precious. Who wouldn't want to be precious? (I do NOT want to be Precious--like the movie.)
Our little exchange got me thinking about the other reasons having a baby bump would be awesome. First of all, there would be no more sucking in. I mean, that in and of itself might be reason enough to get knocked up.
I would probably be on the receiving end of many acts of gallantry. It doesn't matter that I know a pregnant woman is capable of holding the door; I still hold it for her. Having the tables turned in my favor would be pretty sweet. People would get out of my way as I charged forward through a crowd. They don't want to knock down a pregnant lady. I even fancy that perhaps people would say things like, "Here, dear, allow me to buy those groceries for you. Cashier, what's the cost? $129.37? Here you are. No, no, I insist, dear. You just take care of that precious gift from you God that you're growing." (I'm sure this must happen all the time.)
Elastic-waist pants. They would be suitable for more than lounging at home, exercising, or sleeping. I could wear them to the grocery store! To dinner with my friends! Most excitingly, I could wear them to work!
And speaking of elastic-waisted pants, I would really need to go clothes shopping.
"But, but--I really NEED that cute top! None of mine fit anymore."
"Okay, honey, buy whatever you need."
"Thanks, dear! You're the best!"
Having an adorable little bump would provide a reasonably valid reason for being late to work (which I desperately need, as I'm late nearly every day). "Oh, I'm soooo sorry I'm late! It's just that I slept in a little too long, and can't move very quickly. You know--because I'm growing life." And they would all say, "Oh, that's okay!" as I smile smugly and waddle (adorably) to my desk.
POWER! Being able to grow a brand new person that will eventually become a walking, talking, thinking, self-aware person with ideas, a life, friends, morals, a soul, etc... That's kind of a big deal. I think I would be completely full of myself, drunk on the power of the knowledge of what my body can do, and that in turn would give me confidence and that would, I think, result in all sorts of great things. Like getting a 100% raise at work. (Maybe not. But growing a human is kinda neat.)
Yeah, that would all be pretty darn cool. Now, it's possible that I have a romanticized version of what having a baby bump would be like. Knowing people who are or have been pregnant, I can see that maybe it's not all lollipops and sonograms. I think I'll follow up next time with reasons I think having a baby bump would be not so awesome.
Oh, and in case you're curious, when I told Patrick I want to be adorable, he assured me that I am adorable, even if I just rock a food baby bump. Smart man... very smart.
*It's very likely I wildly exaggerated this reaction.
Once he unclenched, relaxed, and leaned back in his chair, still shaking a little*, he asked why. I happily answered, "Because it's so cute! I've never seen a pregnant woman with a bitty baby bump that didn't look adorable. I want to be adorable!"
I thought to myself, no one has ever looked at my stomach after I've eaten a pretty righteous burrito and told me I look cute. But baby bumps? So precious. Who wouldn't want to be precious? (I do NOT want to be Precious--like the movie.)
Our little exchange got me thinking about the other reasons having a baby bump would be awesome. First of all, there would be no more sucking in. I mean, that in and of itself might be reason enough to get knocked up.
I would probably be on the receiving end of many acts of gallantry. It doesn't matter that I know a pregnant woman is capable of holding the door; I still hold it for her. Having the tables turned in my favor would be pretty sweet. People would get out of my way as I charged forward through a crowd. They don't want to knock down a pregnant lady. I even fancy that perhaps people would say things like, "Here, dear, allow me to buy those groceries for you. Cashier, what's the cost? $129.37? Here you are. No, no, I insist, dear. You just take care of that precious gift from you God that you're growing." (I'm sure this must happen all the time.)
Elastic-waist pants. They would be suitable for more than lounging at home, exercising, or sleeping. I could wear them to the grocery store! To dinner with my friends! Most excitingly, I could wear them to work!
And speaking of elastic-waisted pants, I would really need to go clothes shopping.
"But, but--I really NEED that cute top! None of mine fit anymore."
"Okay, honey, buy whatever you need."
"Thanks, dear! You're the best!"
Having an adorable little bump would provide a reasonably valid reason for being late to work (which I desperately need, as I'm late nearly every day). "Oh, I'm soooo sorry I'm late! It's just that I slept in a little too long, and can't move very quickly. You know--because I'm growing life." And they would all say, "Oh, that's okay!" as I smile smugly and waddle (adorably) to my desk.
POWER! Being able to grow a brand new person that will eventually become a walking, talking, thinking, self-aware person with ideas, a life, friends, morals, a soul, etc... That's kind of a big deal. I think I would be completely full of myself, drunk on the power of the knowledge of what my body can do, and that in turn would give me confidence and that would, I think, result in all sorts of great things. Like getting a 100% raise at work. (Maybe not. But growing a human is kinda neat.)
Yeah, that would all be pretty darn cool. Now, it's possible that I have a romanticized version of what having a baby bump would be like. Knowing people who are or have been pregnant, I can see that maybe it's not all lollipops and sonograms. I think I'll follow up next time with reasons I think having a baby bump would be not so awesome.
Oh, and in case you're curious, when I told Patrick I want to be adorable, he assured me that I am adorable, even if I just rock a food baby bump. Smart man... very smart.
*It's very likely I wildly exaggerated this reaction.
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