Pregnancy Glamor

Ladies, for anyone out there whose pregnancy know-how is limited to the glossy pages of US Magazine -- the pictures of a flawless Gwen Stefani or the adorable Halle Berry and their picture-perfect bumps-- this one is for you.

Jeff got a new camera recently, one that is so fancy that the lenses weigh more than my head, the current smallest part of my body. He loves to take pictures. These photo sessions usually take place at night. Let me tell you something about how it feels at night when you are 7.5 months pregnant, have worked a full day after taking public transportation to and from the office, and after getting only about 5 hours of sleep (for the past week) because you got up to pee an average of 6 times in the middle of the night. Well, maybe I just said all you need to know. Night time is not my best time and you can see from above that by the time the sun goes down I don't even have the energy to fight or to cover my face like celebrities being stalked by Papparazzi. Alas, I clearly have no vanity either.

And, this is what it looks like. More specifically, this is what I look like. I come home and lay down on the bed and try to stay awake long enough to tell Jeff what I want for dinner. Lately, that answer has been Omega-3 enriched eggs, veggies, and some Bisquick biscuits. I mean if I am going to get out of my comfortable position on the bed and tear myself away from bonding with my daughter by staring at my stomach and counting her kicks, it has to be worth it. It has to be southern, and bready, and served with a generous dollop of butter. Luckily, just before the wave of third trimester exhaustion hit, I taught my California-born husband how to make a southern biscuit. The dough is not to be mashed and controlled into perfect circular disks, like, say, a non cancerous mole; it must be messy and asymmetrical and lumpy. That's the beauty of a biscuit.

So, yes, there is a lot about this pregnancy process that is not glamorous. It's like when you tell people that you are going on an international business trip, and people think that sounds very glamorous. Sure, it's glamorous enough to travel to Germany for work, but at the end of the day you are the one stuck in a second-rate German hotel that has no gym, no food that comes without gravy, and nothing on TV but the BCC and German porn. Not so glamorous in the living, though it may sound great in the telling. Pregnancy is a lot of things: it's exciting, humbling, terrifying, vivifying, and life-altering, but it's changed my relationship to vanity for the time being at least, and perhaps forever.