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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 Bronx and back.

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.




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