We had friends staying for the weekend, and we took them to the pub on Sunday for lunch. Tom and I had an utterly relaxing and indulgent couple of hours, eating lovely food, drinking wine, and actually managing a proper conversation, without being interrupted every two seconds by children who seem to take exception to us doing just that. Meanwhile our friends chased Betty and Dolly round and round the pub. It was wonderful.
As we all walked through the bar to leave, feeling happy and full, I bumped into an old school friend. We had a chat about her children and then I pointed out my children, who were both now perched up on bar stools. She said 'And you're expecting again I see, how exciting!' 'No I am not pregnant, I am just fat' I retorted. However, she obviously thought I was having a laugh, and then said 'Oh come on, when's the little baby gonna pop out?' I then found myself desperately and rather pathetically trying to convince her that I was not up the duff.
Having finally convinced her, she tried to remedy the situation and asked how old Dolly was. I told her 18 months. 'Oh well, there you go, Dolly is still very young, which is why you haven't lost the baby weight yet' she said. I felt there was nowhere left to go with this conversation, so I grabbed my children and walked out, rejoining Tom and our friends in the carpark.
I have written before about being mistaken for a labouring lady by a midwife (A MIDWIFE!!) on the maternity ward, whilst I was being a birthing partner to my friend a few months ago. It is actually really rather crushing, that you are so fat you could feasibly be about to give birth.
Yesterday I bought some of those shaping knickers that come all the way up to your bra. I wore them today and my mum remarked: 'it is a definite improvement, you no longer look pregnant, just fat'.