I may be hormonal, but I find myself feeling angry when I see cute, bouncy pregnant women on TV. I just can't relate to the celebrity and baby bump models who espouse the wonderful virtues of being pregnant. I have a firm grasp on reality and hold no illusions that I am a "cute" pregnant lady. Instead, I have fully embraced that I look like a bloated and peg-legged duck waddling through my daily routine.
A few weeks ago my OB-GYN presented me with a "Welcome to the Third Trimester" gift bag. Filled with free samples and literature, I was eager to go through the loot when I made it home from the appointment. Of course, as soon as I arrived home Robby needed my help. The gift bag was put on a counter where I have moved it from side to side but hadn't had the opportunity to open it. Yesterday, feeling compelled to tidy up but lacking a lot of energy, I decided to go through the gift bag.
My free samples were limited to three types of stretch mark cream, each touting amazing promises to diminish those "ugly and unsightly lines." Up until that moment I had failed to realize that stripes were forming across my belly. I'm so glad that they were pointed out to me, lest I miss another reason to feel badly about my appearance!
Thankfully, if the cream doesn't do the trick I now have brochures from two area clinics which specialize in various laser treatments designed to eliminate those "post pregnancy issues." I have already been through one pregnancy and never had to undergo a laser treatment. What have I been missing?
One of the more surprising brochures in my gift bag was advertising a plastic surgeon who specializes in "vaginal lifts." Until that moment, I had no idea that a vagina could fall! My favorite testimonial read, "Having the vaginal lift was one of the best decisions I've ever made. I feel like I'm 18 again, with everything firm and back in place, virtually erasing the childbirth altogether. Needless to say, my husband has never been happier." Sorry Scott, it isn't going to happen!
The last item in my gift bag was a complimentary copy of "Fit and Pregnant" magazine. First of all, I never knew that those two words would logically go together. Secondly, the cover photo of a pregnant lady beaming in a bikini with the statement "I've never felt sexier in my skin" made me want to scream. I am neither radiant nor sexy at the moment. The more I think about it, I wonder how much time and money that model is going to invest in stretch cream, laser treatments and vaginal lifts to erase the physical memories of the sexiest time in her skin?
The magazine also boasted an article which promised to help me "Embrace my Inner Goddess." At that point I had reached my limit. I gathered up the contents of my not-so-fun "gift bag" and I threw it in the trash. I spent the next hour munching my way through a bag of double stuff Oreos.