When I got pregnant with Kellen, I gained 60 pounds. (No, that’s not a typo. Six-zero.) I lost fifty of them before getting pregnant with Kendrie. Then gained those fifty back when I was pregnant with her. Why no, I don’t suffer from morning sickness or nausea; how did you guess?
While pregnant with Kellen, my hands got so fat (along with every other cell in my body) that I had to quit wearing my wedding ring. Same thing when I was pregnant with Kendrie. But after she was born, I don’t know if my finger joints had permanently puffed up, or if the stubborn ten …. fifteen …. OK, TWENTY pounds I still had hanging around was making the difference, but I couldn’t get my wedding ring back on my finger, no matter how much hand lotion or spit I used. (That’s a lovely image, isn’t it?)
So I finally caved and went down to have my ring stretched. Or expanded. Or whatever it is they do to make them bigger. And while the lady at the jewelry store was nice, I’ll admit I was self-conscious and a little embarrassed about it. Who wants to make the public confession that they’ve gotten so much fatter, even in the fingers, that their jewelry doesn’t fit?
Then, like being mortified by my fat-ness in front of one employee wasn’t enough, when I went back later to pick the ring up, there was a different girl working. She handed me the ring to try on, and asked me if it fit better. This is the conversation that followed:
Her: Does it feel better?
Me: Yes, actually, much better. I can at least get it past the knuckle now.
Her: Were you having it sized up or sized down?
Me: Oh, sized up. (feeling self-conscious, so doing that stupid self-deprecating thing that I do) I guess that’s what happens when you’ve gotten pregnant twice only eight months apart …. Your fingers get bigger and you need to get bigger rings (embarrassed laughter)
Her: Well, I suppose. But after you have this one, you’ll just have to get it sized back down again.
Have this one? HAVE this one? Did I mention that I had already HAD the baby? Like, THREE MONTHS earlier????
So, needless to say, since I was already at the mall, I called Blaine and told him I was going shopping. For clothes that did a better job of hiding my post-baby tummy. Sadly, it’s been eight years and I’m still searching the racks. (sigh)