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This past weekend I was
pregnancy shamed. Allow me to explain. You may have heard of slut shaming or
fat shaming, but rarely do you ever hear of people saying they were pregnancy
shamed. Hubby and I went to Houston this past weekend for a baby shower. It was
indeed a most enjoyable event! The last guest departed the baby shower at 1:00
am! Yes, I am a party animal.
My day started out
normally, as any other day. I got up, ate an emergency breakfast (emergency
because ever since I got pregnant, I have to have something in my stomach or
else this baby becomes a monster). After eating breakfast and talking to some
of my family members, I went upstairs to take a shower and get ready to hit the
road back to Arkansas. It was extremely hot, so I picked a maternity dress that
was a light and stretchy material. My stomach has gotten bigger so the material
accentuated and clung to my stomach. This is the one feature that I liked about
the dress because it allowed me to show the evidence of my soon to be baby
Diva. I met my little sister and she complimented me on the dress; it made me
smile. As I made my way down the stairs, I became aware of the distressed looks
I was getting from some of my relatives. The incessant chatter ceased and the
room fell quiet. I felt weird but thought I was being paranoid. I made a mental
note of how I had checked and double checked my appearance before going down
the stairs. So why the weird vibe? At last, one brave soul ventured out to tell
me they thought it was best to go back upstairs and change. I asked if she
could see my underwear or if the dress was too short. She said no, but that the
dress was not appropriate for me to wear. One of her cohorts further explained
that the dress would be good for someone who did not have curves, someone tall
and slender. She also stated that the dress made me look more compact. I was
not satisfied with this explanation. My older sister piped up and asked me to
turn sideways because she wanted to see baby Diva in her full glory. She did
not seem to have a problem with my outfit.
Hubby loaded the truck
and we got ready to speed off to the redneck highway (remote windy two lane
roads) to our beloved El Dorado. As we approached
the truck my relatives kept pressuring me to go change prior to my departure. I
finally asked why they found this dress so offensive. Finally, one of my shamers
stated, “well, the dress would not look so bad if your stomach was not so big...you
know if your stomach was smaller.” After picking my jaw off the floor, I mounted
the waiting truck and sped off.
Dear reader: I. AM.
PREGNANT! Yes, my stomach is big…like a mini beach ball or a round, smooth
extra-large bowling ball. It is big and round, like a perfectly shaped dome. It
is also beautiful and exquisite; it is carrying life! I could not help but
wonder why two women who have had children (emphasis on CHILDREN) felt it was
ok to shame another woman because of her glorious pregnant belly. I wasn’t
being told to change because my outfit was too provocative, but because of my
protruding belly. My big pregnant belly was making them uncomfortable. As our truck
carried us up home, I wondered, how can a pregnant woman make her stomach less conspicuous?
Should I wear Moo-Moo’s for the rest of the pregnancy? I wistfully turned to my
hubby and asked him if he thought I should cease wearing the offending number.
He lovingly looked at me and smiled. Then he reassuringly answered, “no babe,
your outfit is great, you look beautiful.” With a huge grin on my face, I turned
and looked out the window to watch the trees pass in a blur and make our way a
little closer to Arkansas.
Slut shaming, fat shaming and now pregnancy shaming,
what has the world come to?
Have you ever been
shamed?
