By Jordana Bales
In the spirit of Saturday Night Live’s game shows (Quien es Mas Mucho? Dead or Alive?) my father and I have created two of our own – “Homeless or Just Badly Dressed?” and the more relevant, “Pregnant or Fat?” Of course, these games are only fun to play using real-life examples and after one too many dirty looks, we have shortened “Pregnant or Fat” to POF (pronounced Poof). I am saddened to say that I think I am a POF.
I’m at the lovely stage where I don’t quite look pregnant but have lost my shapely figure (Ok, so I never really had that shapely figure. But after losing and keeping 30 pounds off on Weight Watchers 4 years ago, I have been very happy with how I look in clothes, and sometimes, on a good day, how I look out of clothes). But now there are some signs that I am seriously in POFville.
How to tell if you’re a POF
No one on the subway gives you a seat. Contrary to the nasty reputation New Yorkers have, when I was pregnant with my daughter Ava, I was astounded by how many kind people offered me their subway seat. These days, even if I’m wearing a snug top, I’m standing all the way to the
You’re too big for your “fat clothes” and too small for maternity clothes. Every morning my husband Michael and I have a sort of ritual “Do I look fat? Do I look pregnant?” Special thumbs up to Michael for continuing to play this game with his extra-sensitive wife when he really has no rule book and no way of winning.
People ask you “how are you feeling?” or “any news?” Prior to this pregnancy, I would never have regarded these questions as suspicious. However, perhaps it is those extra hormones that make my spidey-sense tingle. Although most people have learned never to ask a woman if she is pregnant unless you actually see crowning, I have found people use other innocuous questions to get the inside scoop on your expanding bump. I guess this actually means that they are leaning towards the “P” rather than the “F” – which is really good news for me.
In fact, when I did start revealing my pregnancy to co-workers at 18 weeks, everyone seemed to give the all-knowing nod. “We knew you were pregnant!” they said. So am I just a POF in my own head? Maybe. However, unlike beauty which is ONLY in the eye of the beholder, I think POF is in the eye of the Babyholder. And, until I get offered a subway seat, I’ll still feel like a POF.