On Getting Bigger While the World Gets Smaller

Being pregnant has been the most magical, difficult, humbling, amazing experience. I am excited about it every day and in awe of the process that is bringing my son into existence.

But there is one part of it that has been harder than I imagined. Sure, there have been physical challenges like throwing up almost daily for over a month, getting a poor nights sleep more often than not, and the physical discomfort of my uterus growing and stretching, losing space in my core and coping with pain and limited physical capacities.

No, the hardest part for me has not been any of that, but it has been watching my body get larger while the women around me and in the media get smaller.

I am actively bringing a new life into the world, and my body is doing what it must to create space for this human to grow. I think that’s incredible.

I have never been one to have real body image issues, and I’m proud of the work I’ve done and the mindset I’ve taken on throughout my life to achieve that.

I’ve always been active, relatively physically fit, and have eaten a fairly balanced diet. I’ve always had what I would consider to be a very normal, healthy woman’s body—slim and fit, but with a little bit of stomach fluff and some cellulite and stretch marks on my legs. There has always been an active warrior in my head fighting off the perceived societal expectations that my stomach should be flatter and that I should be doing more, always doing more to look better, to look more like my stick thin peers or family members.

I actually think that focusing too much on one’s body is pretty lame. Like, fuck what society has to say, real women’s bodies are full and diverse, now get over yourself and go do something interesting.

That warrior in my head that fends off the negative thoughts is still in there, working hard and embracing the awesomeness of pregnancy. Maybe it’s the hormones, maybe it’s the speed of the changes, or maybe it’s the world around me, but I have found that warrior needing to take more breaks, and I am left feeling overly self-conscious about the fact that I am getting bigger while the women around me get smaller.

The feeling of being self-conscious or insecure is an unpleasant feeling in my experience. Take the feeling of being turned on—aware of your body and bodily sensations, fantasizing about where and how you would like to be touched—but make those thoughts negative: Hyper-aware of the feeling of your body, the size of certain parts of you, wanting to crawl out of your skin, not because of the gaze of others, but because you can feel everything about your body at once, and you don’t necessarily like what you feel.

There have been a handful of moments where I have broken down crying as I struggle with the mental and spiritual discomfort of getting larger, of my stomach protruding and looking blocky, not like a cute, round baby bump, of my breasts becoming fuller, of not being able to fit in my old pants and my t-shirts feeling extra tight and clinging to all the places I wish they wouldn’t.

Maybe women have always struggled with these changes in the way I am, but something about this moment in our culture seems to be exacerbating the problem, at least for me.

The women in the media and movies are getting thinner, like bones-protruding and gaunt-faces thin. Influencers are promoting GLP-1 injections like they’re a harmless herbal supplement. Running marathons and half-marathons has become the latest fad, a form of exercise that burns calories at lightning speed, can potentially lead to severe changes to a woman’s menstrual cycle and, for most runners, causes them to shit their pants while running.

One of the most noticeable changes in society, though, is that many women in their 20s are not having children at the rate they historically have. There is not a single person in my family or friend group of the last 20+ years that has been pregnant, is actively pregnant, or is hoping to be pregnant any time soon. I suspect a handful are waiting until later when their careers are fully under way or they are 100% financially secure, but it’s also been the case that quite a few women in my peer groups don’t want to have kids at all. They want to travel and be free. They could never imagine bringing a new life into this horrible world. They decry that their bodies simply wouldn’t be capable of such a feat, that it sounds too horrible, painful, or difficult.

What is horrible, painful, and difficult is being so isolated from the other women in my life, of feeling like I am changing in a way that they not only will never understand, but that they don’t really care to understand because we’re all just making our individual choices, and this is one they have entirely written off. Yes, over the past year I have met and become friends with some incredible young mothers, and I have no doubt that I will continue to meet more women at a similar point in their lives. But to feel so alienated from the women I’ve known for years, who simply can’t relate to me or feel excited in the way that deep down I really wish they would—that is the hardest part.

Never before have we lived in a society that is so anti-children, motherhood, and families. As the global birth rate falls and anorexia-chic makes its way back into style, I can’t help but feel that it is not only anti-woman, creating harmful expectations on the ideal body or what should matter in life, but it is anti-mother.

To become a mother is to grow.

To grow your heart, your mind, your family.

Your body will grow to make space for new life, to feed and sustain that life, and to nurture and care for that life.

I am growing as a person, literally and figuratively.

I am growing a person. We are taking up more space. He is taking up space in me.

It feels isolating and bizarre at times. It feels uncomfortable and exhausting.

But it feels empowering and beautiful as well.

I wouldn’t want it any other way, and ultimately what matters to me is my son, my family, and our health, but it makes me sad that I’m struggling with the physical changes more than I thought I would.