The Benefits of Being Mistaken as Pregnant

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Abstract

is mean that I actually was <b><i>(anything but that!)</i></b> fat? I didn’t and I wasn’t, but back then it seemed like something to be ashamed of. As I got older (and fatter) I arrived at that wonderful stage in life where the sum total of the f*cks I gave about this was zero. One time I even benefitted from this mistake.</p><p id="dbfb">In April of 2000, I visited my friend Jen in Newton, Massachusetts. As excited as I was about the trip, I managed to choose to visit the same weekend as the Boston Marathon. Any travel to and from Boston meant riding the T. And riding the T during the Boston Marathon was a nightmare. I found myself standing in the middle of the main aisle for most of the trip. I nearly fell over numerous times, unlike those who traveled like this regularly and never wavered. One trip was a bit different though and looking pregnant was a distinct advantage for me.</p><p id="db47">I was, as I described, fighting to stay upright while standing in the main aisle as the T headed to Boston on a Friday morning. A man about my age at the time (I was 28) was sitting in one of the seats right in front me, reading a newspaper. During one of the train’s turns, I pitched forward and knocked his

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newspaper out of his hands. I figured he’d yell at me for being so clumsy. He did not. He stared at me for about 30 seconds, then stood up and said “Here. Sit in this seat. You shouldn’t be standing in your condition.” Past experiences meant I knew exactly what condition he thought I was in. For the first time I didn’t get angry because someone thought I was pregnant. Instead, I put my hands on either side of my stomach…and I took the seat.</p><p id="f9b9">And I didn’t feel even an ounce of guilt. I just kept my hands on my stomach and smiled.</p><div id="354b" class="link-block"> <a href="https://medium.com/@dogwithbooks/membership"> <div> <div> <h2>Join Medium with my referral link - Natalie Forrest</h2> <div><h3>As a Medium member, a portion of your membership fee goes to writers you read, and you get full access to every story…</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/0*WLGwxirvnhJojvmv)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div></article></body>

The Benefits of Being Mistaken as Pregnant

I have been unusually thrilled for the past two days because yesterday, when my oldest niece gave birth to her daughter, I became a great aunt. I don’t have any children, but I love my nieces and my nephew as if they were my own. As she has always been slim, it wasn’t until the very end of her pregnancy that she actually looked pregnant. I’ve no doubt she’ll shed her pregnancy weight in record time too.

As a thinnish young adult with a definite VBO (Visible Belly Outline) I was often mistaken as being pregnant. As I gained weight, this misbelief seemed to become more and more frequent. I’ll admit that this bothered me when I was younger. If other people thought I was pregnant, did this mean I looked (dear god NO!) fat? Did this mean that I actually was (anything but that!) fat? I didn’t and I wasn’t, but back then it seemed like something to be ashamed of. As I got older (and fatter) I arrived at that wonderful stage in life where the sum total of the f*cks I gave about this was zero. One time I even benefitted from this mistake.

In April of 2000, I visited my friend Jen in Newton, Massachusetts. As excited as I was about the trip, I managed to choose to visit the same weekend as the Boston Marathon. Any travel to and from Boston meant riding the T. And riding the T during the Boston Marathon was a nightmare. I found myself standing in the middle of the main aisle for most of the trip. I nearly fell over numerous times, unlike those who traveled like this regularly and never wavered. One trip was a bit different though and looking pregnant was a distinct advantage for me.

I was, as I described, fighting to stay upright while standing in the main aisle as the T headed to Boston on a Friday morning. A man about my age at the time (I was 28) was sitting in one of the seats right in front me, reading a newspaper. During one of the train’s turns, I pitched forward and knocked his newspaper out of his hands. I figured he’d yell at me for being so clumsy. He did not. He stared at me for about 30 seconds, then stood up and said “Here. Sit in this seat. You shouldn’t be standing in your condition.” Past experiences meant I knew exactly what condition he thought I was in. For the first time I didn’t get angry because someone thought I was pregnant. Instead, I put my hands on either side of my stomach…and I took the seat.

And I didn’t feel even an ounce of guilt. I just kept my hands on my stomach and smiled.