"You don't look pregnant"

Pregnant women in the first trimester do not receive enough credit.

I was unaware of this truth until I was such a woman.  As I learned during that first trimester, until you have a telltale baby bump, people automatically are suspicious of any claim you may make that you are pregnant.  The would-be employer I had to disappoint treated me as though I might really have Ebola, since I obviously wasn't pregnant at my previous interviews.

The day Andrew and I married really captured a number of the sentiments I experienced during that time.  The day was June 5, and we had been engaged for 3 weeks.  I had morning sickness.  Bad.  It wasn't as bad if I slept later in the day, so I had developed a habit of staying up until 2am reading, then sleeping until lunchtime.  Bedside crackers did very little to help tame the low blood sugar beast that is morning sickness.  And stress only compounded the problem--including the stress of waking up early.

On the morning of June 5, I was finally going to begin receiving prenatal care.  I had an appointment scheduled at the health department.  I had no insurance and no job.  Surely I was a prime candidate.  I also had an anole lizard dead somewhere in my car, whose carcass was hiding from everything but the summer heat of Florida and decomposition.

Getting into the car after being ill twice already that morning was enough of a challenge.  I smelled my lizard friend's remains, and promptly delivered a dose of stomach contents to the ground beside my car before closing the door.  So far, so good.

The drive to the health department had me feeling a little nervous, not to mention that I had been lacking sufficient caloric intake thus far.  The plastic bag I brought along was not up to the task as my belly lurched driving through a large intersection.  My retro shirt and silk skirt were looking much yellower suddenly than they had a few minutes prior.

Arriving at the parking lot, I found a space at the furthest distance possible from the building.  Agonizingly slowly, horribly embarrassed by my appearance, I forced myself to enter.  Once inside I was directed to complete some paperwork and wait.  After some waiting and nose-blowing and a run to a garbage can, I was allowed to sit and discuss my personal finances intimately with a complete stranger--who then rejected me for health care at the health department (even if I offered to pay out of pocket) because I admitted I was living with Andrew, whose pay was "too high".  Cue reverse peristalsis again, though this time in a garbage can.  Eventually, I managed to cry enough that I could drive home.

Opening the car door just in time, I managed to land my next batch immediately atop the previous offering I had made to the ground before leaving on my misadventure.  A couple more shots of nauseating misery landed in the toilet, and I allowed myself to get some much-needed rest.

My phone rang.  Andrew was on his way home for lunch and demanded that I get up and get dressed.  My vomit-covered clothing was still hanging unwashed in the bathroom.  I felt like death itself.  Still, I managed to let him coerce me into clothing myself and staggering pathetically about until we had accomplished the task of going to the courthouse and securing a marriage license.  I have no doubt in my mind that the woman issuing it believed me to be a heroin addict or something of that caliber.

Later that evening, we went to our weekly trivia game at the local pizza bar, Gumby's, and had our marriage completed by a notary friend between trivia questions.  How romantic.  

Three weeks later, we did have a really nice, planned reception for family to attend, followed by a honeymoon in Pennsylvania.  A few days before the reception, I began receiving treatments for a disc herniation at a new office.  The girl behind the counter blurted out to me, "You don't look pregnant."  The same line was repeated to me many times at the reception.

I assume that people are ignorant of how ignorant they sound when saying that.  First of all, I was showing, but because I had never had any belly fat before,  my burgeoning baby bump looked inconsequential to onlookers.  If I am being honest, it was barely noticeable, but try telling that to my jeans that had gotten tight at 3 weeks pregnant.  The feeling of frustration that I was going through all of these new and difficult issues and gaining weight--and no one could even tell!--was so strong at times that I felt very ungracious toward the disbelieving bunch.

Then a miracle happened during the honeymoon:  my morning sickness subsided.  My appetite began to return, and I regained much of my strength as Andrew and I trekked and hiked about the Poconos of western Pennsylvania, exploring beautiful waterfalls and elegant scenery.  The cool air was a welcome change of pace from the 90F+ weather back home.  After our week was over we returned to home and the real world once more.

Upon smelling the apartment again, my stomach revolted, and I wretched for the last time (until the day I delivered).  A few days later, while shopping at the local food store, a young employee named Ashley queried if I were pregnant.  I answered in the affirmative, though I felt half-obligated to lie and say that I wasn't, since it seemed a rude question to ask.  Unless you're certain, it's better to err on the side of caution, rather than incur the wrath of a woman who is merely, shall we say, well-rounded.  Still, it was heartening to finally get someone to recognize my condition for what it was.  A week later at the same store, another young employee named Ashley committed the same faux pas.  I decided that that year must have been the year of naive girls named Ashley.

Still, I knew I was finally out of that horrible first trimester phase when I went to get a haircut.  Another woman sat nearby chatting with her mother, while we awaited our turns in the chair.  My belly was showing slightly more, though I was only 3 and a half months pregnant.  The younger woman averred that I must be with-child because I was glowing.

From that point on, I decided to be more cheerful as I certainly enjoyed being told that I was "glowing" in my pregnancy!