It's a Baby, Not Bacon

I've got one hand on my belly and the other one is carrying a bag of fries.

I’ve hit that point in my pregnancy where I definitely have a baby bump. It’s not ridiculously HUGE yet,  but it is certainly there. The thing is, I want people to know that it is indeed a baby bump and not just too much food and too little exercise.

Before I got pregnant this time around I had lost about 15 pounds that I was hanging onto from my pregnancy with my now four year old son. I felt good about my body but hadn’t reached the point of getting rid of some of those now too big for me clothes. In particular, tops and cute summer dresses that I figured I could still wear even in my thinned down state.

Well I can still wear them—in my not so thinned down state—as I’ve gained back those 15 pounds with this pregnancy. I’m happy that I can still wear them. They are cute clothes and it saves me from having to buy a bunch of new stuff.

They are not maternity clothes. They are just regular clothes that still fit me. They don’t have that tell-tale tie just under the breasts that accentuate the belly in an adorable way. And some days I wonder if people question whether or not that is indeed a baby bump I’m sporting.

I want them to know that it is.

I have no idea why I feel that is important to for complete strangers to know that I’m not just carrying around extra weight. Even typing that out right now troubles me. I don’t consider myself an overly vain person and yet for some reason I don’t want people to doubt whether or not I’m pregnant. Maybe it’s the fact that I worked so hard to take off that extra weight. Maybe it’s the fact that I’ve always felt like a chunky girl and know what it’s like to be silently judged by strangers. So, when I’m out in public I’ve found myself with my hand on my belly more than necessary. Rubbing gently back and forth as if to day, “Yes that is a baby in there, thank you very much.”