“Like” This Page If You Don’t Glow

You’ve seen them. The women who, while growing a human body deep in the recesses of their woman parts, glow like cocoa butter on a baby’s bottom. They wear leggings, and they look glorious. They wear heels and don’t grow weary. It’s like they’re on a diet of pixie dust and Skittles. Like a black unicorn with a Jheri curl takes them to work every day. And even when the hormones make them constipated, they poop Rubik’s cubes.

Me, on the other hand, it’s like I’m on a diet of chipped beef and cold cabbage. It’s like I live in London and vacation in The Dregs. My nose spreads, and my hairline recedes to the nape of my neck so that my temples look like headlights when I chew. If I wear leggings, I look like a cheap piece of butterflied steak, and if I had a unicorn, he’d file for workers’ comp (slipped disc).

Those women who glow, the kind who look like a cross between Moses and Rainbow Bright, they also leave morning sickness behind quickly. So I’m all, “Yeah, girl, I feel terrible.  And I’m past the first trimester!” And they’re all, “Just eat small meals, and you’ll be fine.” And I don’t know if they’re saying that because they believe it or because they are frightened by the lateral intensity of my hips.

The glorious women, the kind I aspire to be in my third pregnancy, never appear pregnant until it is just right. They wait until the belly is fully rounded but not overbearing. Then they buy some dangly earrings, carry a cute purse, and get bronzer. Then they say, “Oh, yes, we’re expecting.” And everyone tells them, “You are so adorable! Oh my gosh. You are all baby. And you still look fierce.”

With me, I never get the timing right. It’s like I pull the turkey out of the oven when the gizzards are still frozen. I try to wear bigger clothes and hold Occupy signs in front of me as often as possible. But then I go into Target, and I am like a day-and-a- half pregnant, and the cashier says, “I thought you looked pregnant.” And I think, “Are you a prophet or is this another instance of God using a donkey?”

Anyhow, I guess this is my official way of telling you that Elie Mae is going to be a big sister this spring. The poor child is on a strict diet of carbs and fruit just like Mommy. We stay inhaling pancakes and loosening our pants. The good news is, Elie’s nose isn’t spreading anywhere.

 

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8 thoughts on ““Like” This Page If You Don’t Glow

  1. You are beautiful! Embrace your motherly figure. Your pregnancy woes will all be a distant memory one day. Focus on the creation you have in your belly. xxx

  2. So, look, I did glow, and I kept wearing leggins (even w/ granny panties on, and even if they didn’t go with my outfit, and even if my shirt didn’t cover my tush) because I couldn’t care less; I was growing a human, so I thought, “deal with it”, society. But I LOVE this post. And I love you! And the next time someone looks sideways because they “thought” you were pregnant, tell them to try growing a baby and shut it up.

  3. Taylor you know I feel you on this post! We had this conversation a few months ago when I was still pregnant! Those skinny legging wearing only belly glowing pregnant women got on my nerves!!!! LOL….Im with you! But you know your still cute in my book! 🙂

  4. Taylor, girl, let da chutch say, “AMEN!” I had three kids in four years. It wasn’t pretty. Glow, a sistah did NOT! My normal Size 2 body quadrupled in size. Seriously. I have pictures to prove it… locked away in a Top Secret vault… I had horrible acne and gained weight in the face. The face, man. The FACE. My loving husband, friends and family were so kind. One friend stifled her laugh when I packed my regular Size 2 clothes to go deliver our first child. I was ignorant (or perhaps in denial) that the pounds wouldn’t drop off post-afterbirth. All things said, IT WAS A SMALL SACRIFICE for the honor of birthing God’s Chosen Ones. Love ya, Haute Mama!

  5. “Are you a prophet or is this another instance of God using a donkey?”

    that is such a funny line… i think you just referred to the salesperson as an “ass.”

    Congrats mother harris. this godmother is soo happy to have (another) godchild.

      1. #wishfulthinking never hurt nobody. In fact, we are encouraged to dream dreams. Old men visions. young girls prophecying… right.

        but then again, that’s a reference to the last days.

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