It’s one of those days. Where the weather is cold, and there are pumpkin-chocolate-chip-oatmeal cookies and chai tea to be had, and all I really want to do is curl up under a warm blanket and watch a period movie.
That might also be influenced by the fact that I almost gave up on getting dressed this morning out of pure frustration; I’ve been wanting simple, easy outfits that still look put-together, but anything I might have worn pre-pregnancy doesn’t fit right now, and I tried on five or six different outfits before I came to this.
To be completely honest with you, today I just feel like crying. I’m letting stupid things get to me, the most of which was an anonymous comment yesterday that it’s a tiny bit annoying I put my hands on my belly in every post, because “it’s not like one can’t tell you’re pregnant.”
I don’t want to pick on anyone, really I don’t. Yesterday, I tried very hard not to care about the comment, and for all I know that person really didn’t think about the way they came off in the comment and meant nothing by it. Perhaps they were merely observing that I fall to the same pose a lot. Because that’s true. I’m not a creative poser. I do put my hands on my belly all the time, so it’s an obvious thing to point out. Maybe people do get tired of the pose. Maybe it seems as though I’m trying to make obvious the fact that I’m pregnant.
And I am truly sorry if you find that annoying, any of you, because I don’t want people to be annoyed with me. I want to make people happy.
But here’s the thing: I love being pregnant. I love the belly. More specifically, I love this baby. And right now I can’t hug him or squish his cheeks or kiss his chub or feel his baby hair, so the only possible way I can physically show my love for him is to touch the belly. It’s not to flaunt the fact that I’m pregnant. It’s not to rub it into your face, or make sure you get the point.
Pure and simple, I love this baby, and I want to be as close to him as I can. I want to feel every time he kicks or rolls or punches. I want him to know I love him.
So, unfortunately for those of you who dislike the pose, it’s not going to stop. My belly, my blog, my choice. I’m sorry to rant so much, but this really is my diary of life, and most of the story is told through the pictures. I am not a great journalist, oddly enough since I love writing nonfiction, and I have never been a good at detailing my day-to-day life with words. I love my life, but it’s not exciting to write about.
I can, however, express things through pictures, and right now the biggest thing I have to express on a daily basis is love. Love for this baby, love of the weird, scary, amazing, creepy, unexpected, unequaled experience of being pregnant, and love of fashion. But mostly, love for Baby Owl. Whom I can only currently reach with my voice — which I cannot photograph — or my hands on my belly.
The pose is not a point maker. It’s there because I love my baby, because I’m not a creative poser, and because sometimes I just don’t know what to do with my hands. Moreover, it’s a natural reflex for most pregnant women, and let’s face it: the belly attracts hands, whether they’re mine or someone else’s. It’s meant to be touched.
To some extent, I will take that comment into consideration as constructive criticism, in that I will try to think more about what I do in my pictures. Of course I want to improve my photography and my posing by changing up what I do. But, as with the clothes I wear, I know what poses work with my body and face, and I do use them often to present good pictures, even if it means sometimes I get stuck in a routine.
What do you think? Do you find it tiring when bloggers repeat a pose in multiple posts, or do you notice at all? Do you get tired of pregnant women doing the hands-on-belly pose? Do you find yourself falling into a routine of posing? What do you do to shake things up?
I hope you all have a lovely Wednesday!