Mirror Mirror on the wall...if you keep looking at me like that I'm going to smash you into a million pieces

There is a popular notion or "saying" written somewhere in the "Book of They" that states something to the fact that pregnant women are positively radiant or "glowing".  This is absolute horsesh*t.  Oh, well I suppose if they mean that the abundance of hormones can put off a literal radioactive "glow", then they would be right.  Or the sheen of sweat that forms just from the sheer exhaustion of hoisting your quickly expanding rump in and out of your car.  Then, sure, we "glow".  But I don't care what They say, nothing is "positive" or "radiant" about this first time pregnant gal!  In fact, most days, it's hard to stay positive at all.  Nevermind the first-timer concerns about a future that doesn't exist yet, the rush of ridiculous hormornes, the anti-Christ, aka Progesterone, that makes you drop to your knees to offer up your liquid prayers to the Porceline god and all the other bag of tricks that Pregnancy gods like to throw at you like rotten tomatos and laugh while you are sobbing uncontrollably over who the hell knows what (certainly not YOU!).  My debut Gripe is about our bodies.

All my life, I've been in fairly decent shape.  I've probably never had more than an extra 5-7lbs on me at my laziest and I've certainly never been a hard body.  But I've always been OK with where I was, knowing I could always work a little harder.  As of this morning, I am 15 weeks and 2 days pregnant and my scale is either broken or a big fat liar.  According to that stupid little white squarish thing, I've only gained 5-6lbs. This, too, is absolute horsesh*t because I've gained that much before in my SLEEP and was still able to not only button my jeans (albeit not very comfortably) but I was definitely still able to get them over my hips and rear.  Well according to my pants that I swear on the holy heavens fit last week, that waistline was going nowhere north of the equator.  This made me cry.  My stomach is definitely pooching out and that I can reconcile because that is where the baby is but what in the world do my legs, hips and butt have ANYTHING to do with the gestation of this baby??  LEAVE THEM ALONE!!!!!  They never hurt anybody before so why must they be dragged into this battle like children in a divorce??  This isn't THEIR fault, yet they have to be attacked like this??  My best friend said to me the other day, "...women's bodies are made to have babies".  Taken out of context this sounds very old fashioned, but you would have to know my best friend.  The context was actually about the fact that she knows I could handle the pain and suffering of the delivery because "women's bodies are made to have babies"...but I digress.
Anyway, my opinion on this is, OBVIOUSLY we gals have been shoving babies through some pretty tight spaces for a few years now, so you would think that our bodies (that are made for this) would have adapted and perfected the system.  We live in a society where judgement is as thick as the smog in LA so why have our bodies not caught onto this little sliver of evolution?  The book I'm currently entangled mind, body and soul in is called "The Girlfriend's Guide to Pregnancy" (best book a pregnant gal can ever read, buy it today!) and it wittily states that "thinness is next to godliness" these days.  So sad, so true.  Not that I'm even aiming at any facet of godliness, but all I'm saying is why add to the already cavernous depth of this pregnancy grab bag??  Where is the break in all this?  All I'm saying is that this darn baby better be worth it!  And I'm half tempted to repo their allowance for the first 10 years of their life just to reimuburse the funds spent on short-lived (hopefully) maternity clothes!  Gripe session over.

Toodles!