Getting Real with Kira Hazledine

My husband and I don’t like to announce that we’ve made the decision to expand our family (and reduce our sanity) until our pregnancy is about 12 weeks along. But really, I should have known better. My first pregnancy was difficult enough to hide when I was rushing to the bathroom with nausea all day long, but the second pregnancy is a whole different ball game.

I didn’t “pop” until about 5 months with my first.

I was able to get a new job without my interviewers realizing I was pregnant, and I knew I was pushing it. I wore professional clothes that were flowy and crossed my fingers, because I was so nervous I wouldn’t be hired based on my condition. Yes, I know it’s illegal to discriminate, but that doesn’t really protect me when they could list any other reason that I wasn’t hired. And legally, I didn’t have to disclose. After about two weeks of working, one of my coworkers finally asked the question. Yes, I was pregnant. Approximately 24 weeks along. Oh well. A woman only has so many flowy work shirts.

If I tried to pull the same stunt now, I wouldn’t last until the second trimester without being busted. I. am. HUGE. At least that’s what it feels like. I’m naturally slim, so any sort of baby bloat or bump is obvious. I’ve been in maternity clothes since about 8 weeks along, because nothing fits. It’s a good thing my typical wardrobe is baggy tops and yoga pants, because otherwise my secret would have been out weeks ago.

Oh, and the snacking. I thought the nausea was inconvenient, but now I have nausea fueled by hunger. This requires food in my hands at all times, or I’m running for the bathroom. Cruel, isn’t it? I’m constantly eating, and when I was borrowing my daughter’s snacks at the local play center, it probably raised a few eyebrows.

Luckily, the secret is finally out. I can wear whatever I fit in, even while rocking a massive baby bump for only being in my first trimester. I can snack without judgement and sneak into my husband’s workplace to use the bathroom without odd glances. My daughter can pat my tummy and I don’t have to worry about her saying something that she shouldn’t. Yes, I’m pregnant, and I can do whatever I want. These are the golden weeks of pregnancy, and I plan on enjoying them openly.