Feminist Fuck-up

So, I think the feminists fucked things up for us. What were they thinking when they decided that women shouldn't be hidden away from society's judgemental eyes the very second they showed even a hint of being knocked-up? No wait, I think the correct term is (whispered) "p.g."

Seriously. Until Rosy the Riveter stepped in, women got to go home to their sanctuaries of solitude where they could lounge around all day in dressing gowns and indulge in their cravings without the glaring eye of those who would tell them things like, "That much chocolate is unhealthy for babies, " or, "Spread some peanut butter and cheese on that cinnamon bun. You need more protein," OR the ever popular, "Wow. You're huge!" Even when people are presumably being nice, it's still them making a judgement about my body. For example they say, "You're how far along? Geez. You're really small for being that far along," comments that sound sort of nice, but that leave one silently concerned.

And for the most part, I grin to myself about the comments. I even laugh out loud sometimes... later.

Also, though, being as pregnant as I am is seen as an invitation for the masses to come and ask me the most personal, intimate questions that would otherwise be NONE of their business. For example, "Were you trying to get pregnant? If so, how long did it take?"

How can I possibly answer that?

"Well, the condom broke sometime within the first 20 minutes or so.." or " I think it took five minutes, but I've seen him do better," or, "Actually, an angel spoke to me in a dream and when I woke up, I knew something was different.."

And my belly is a magnet for lonely people. Oddly, I'm OK with that. I don't mind when people want to share their lives: how many kids and grandkids they have, and how often they see them. I've realized lately how extremely lucky I am to have friends I can confide in, so that I don't feel the need to walk up to strangers and address their private parts.

All of this would be so much easier if I didn't struggle with my self-image as much as I do. I am one who is constantly concerned about what fits, what can be disguised, and what can be improved. I'm like that with my brain, too. I've always been that way. I'm not one of those women who feels beautiful when pregnant. I feel more like a circus tent, a science experiment, the blueberry girl in Willy Wonka..

And how disappointing. I really wanted to be the goddess, the Womyn who is creating life, harboring some ancient, secret mystery of the universe. I wanted to stomp the earth and feel that mysterious connection to all of those who are Gaea incarnate.

But I'm not even close to understanding the goddess. I'm Ginger Moth - the girl who is glad to be able to fly, but who is secretly jealous of the butterfly - working at not complaining that my ankles are swollen or that I can't breathe anymore - working at getting up everyday to go to work, even though all I want to do is stay home and spread peanut butter on my cinnamon bun.