what not to say to a pregnant woman

This morning, while selecting my most snowpocalypse-friendly outfit, I was feeling particularly plump. I'd noticed, walking to and from the bathroom, increased upper-thigh friction. And a hard look in the mirror revealed under-arm excess that was not there a few months ago.

So I tried to do some self-reassurance. None of the doctors has expressed any concern about my weight gain; all have called it normal (I'm guessing I'll land somewhere between 35 and 40 lbs in the end). I can still put on my wedding rings. I don't think I'm wearing the pregnancy in my face (please don't tell me if I am; ignorance is bliss). I've (thank you Lord) managed to avoid cankles thus far. I can still wear the maternity pants I purchased at 20 weeks, though they are a bit more form-fitting. Oh, and if the 20-week ultrasound is any indication, I'm carrying a very large Tater.

So, I know it could be worse. And I know that weight gain during pregnancy -- in places other than the belly -- is normal. One of my iphone apps mapped out what accounts for the weight gain, and included seven pounds of "maternal energy stores" in the total. Excellent phrasing, What to Expect.

On a scale of 1 to 10, I would rate my normal fixation on weight and body image at a 7. I lost about 20 pounds after my mother died (intentionally; it was one thing in my increasingly unpredictable life that I could control at the time). And for the past ten years, I've had about five pounds of fluctuation. I paid attention to my weight, but I tried not to obsess. Weighed myself daily, tried to eat right, but never turned down a delectable cupcake. Or a mediocre cupcake. I was content.

And for the most part, I'm content with the baby weight (see reassurance above). But some days, I feel unattractive and chunky in certain places.

Know what doesn't help on said days? Insensitive comments. Some are admittedly worse than others. For example, being told that I look "huge" over the weekend. That comment was compliments of a law school classmate who also noted that he's compared pregnant women to whales in the past. When I called him out on it, he said that pregnant women WANT to be huge. Um, no. But if you WANT to be an a**, bravo on accomplishing your goal.

Other comments are well-intentioned, but still sting. [Brad, I love you. Madly. But I'm putting this out there.]

While walking to the train this morning, I decide to confide in Brad. Surely he would make me feel better.

Me: I feel fat today.
Brad: Why?
Me: Because my thighs and my arm are growing.
Brad: It's okay. You have a baby in your stomach.
Me: Bad response. [Thinking: Thank you for that reminder. I had forgotten about the (precious) bowling ball I (lovingly) lug around every second of every day. Tremendous help.]
Brad: What? I don't get it. You're supposed to gain weight when you're pregnant.
Me: Stop talking.

PSA: Men of the world. When women tell you they feel fat, tell them they are not fat. This rule applies ALL THE TIME, and ESPECIALLY when women are pregnant. In case it's unclear, pregnant women do not want to identify with Shamoo. We know weight gain is unavoidable, and we know why it is happening. It is not your job to point out the obvious. It is your job to tell us that we are gorgeous creatures who look fabulous. FABULOUS. Many thanks.

And now back to your regularly scheduled snowpocalypse coverage. It's gonna be a doozie.