Benjamin Franklin once said…..
A ship under sail and a big-bellied woman, are the handsomest two things that can be seen common
Do you reckon a woman would ever compare carrying a child to a sailing ship. Admittedly I suffered terribly from sea sickness whilst lugging around my unborn brood however I fail to see how this portrayed me as handsome or seaworthy.
I blossomed through pregnancy, truly blossomed, in fact I blossomed so much that towards the latter end of being pregnant with the twins I managed to clear out the local swimming pool when a modern day Captain Ahab came lurching towards with me a harpoon.
I didn’t enjoy being pregnant, I did not feel as Anna Buchanan did when she said…
To be pregnant is to be vitally alive, thoroughly woman, and undoubtedly inhabited.
I felt like death warmed up on good days, on others I merely existed as a two people within me thrived on my every sense. I began each morning praying to the God of porcelain and often I ended the day in the same way. I ate my body weight in watermelon and custard and felt thoroughly pig like as opposed to womanly. I can agree with the lovely Anna in that I was inhabited, although that messed with my mind a little. For nine months I had a penis inside me, surely that should make me less womanly? I can see most days how Freud managed to forge a career out of this stuff.
My highlights of being pregnant include emptying the contents of my breakfast into my handbag between Baker Street and Great Portland Street on the Hammersmith and City Line. Luckily I was only 8 weeks gone and was bump free at the time so the suited businessman whose shoes took a bit of a splattering presumed I was deeply hung-over and felt it his privilege to ensure I knew how revolting I was. I managed to shrug off his harsh words by performing a repeat act before the doors vibrated open but I have never been able to use that Ted Baker beauty since.
There was the time when I was given a handicapped seat at a Sterophonics show as my multiple bulk didn’t seem to fit into a regular ‘gigger’s seat’ and I was considered a health and safety risk for the mosh pit. I spent the whole concert supporting a very drunk he who helped create them and wondering if everyone presumed I was disabled through extreme weight as opposed to pregnant with twins.
I am more inclined to funny lady Rita Rudner’s point of view when she quips life is tough enough without having someone kick you from the inside. And Rita has never had the joy of being host to a siblings first argument as they fight over ownership of the umbilical cord from within you.
I liked the end result of pregnancy, the bit after you have attempted (and in my case failed) to push something the size of a watermelon out of a pin sized hole and have torn, ripped parts of you that have only been used previously for pleasure. I liked the bit with the baby, but the rest of it, I could happily plod through life without reliving.
What about you? How was the act of growing large and hefty for you?
(He who helped create them has started a new website selling shoes, the ladies selection is growing as I type – please show it some love and check it out here – Nothing But Shoes - thanks)