The Public Belly

Until I settle on a way to keep a digital baby book or something similar for The Muffin, I might as well use our blog as a place to keep some info The Muffin might find interesting when he/she can read and cares what its parents say. So this probably won't be read until 2035 or later.

Being pregnant is interesting in so many ways. So far my most unexpected part of pregnancy has been something I haven't seen discussed in a baby book - how, now that I am visibly a momma-to-be, I'm instantly part of a club that I didn't even know existed. The Public Belly creates a new layer of familiarity, community, and shared experience that I suspected was out there but I'd have to actively generate it... not that it kinda happens by default simply because I'm displaying a belly, like plumage on a bird.

Turns out that The Public Belly comes with a lot of touching. Now, I love hugs, getting and receiving, all the time. But having people excitedly greet me and immediately touch my belly? This was new. Men and women. Good friends, people I barely know, everyone inbetween, just automatically reaches out to touch The Belly, always with this awe and joy. There is something magical and magnetically attractive about the bump. I don't understand it, but I respect it. This isn't Jason and I's baby, this is The Public Belly. The Muffin is already part of some greater community, with so many people so excited that it will be entering the world. It's kinda cool. And as someone who doesn't want to get up in other people's personal space unless asked, I'm really amazed that I'm okay with all this belly-touching. Sure I don't understand it, but I don't mind it either. Everyone is welcome to touch my belly if that's what you want.  Now, patt my butt and you're gonna get punched.  Just so we're clear.

Speaking of community, the club of parents has really kicked in. I was amply warned that I'd be bombarded with advice, without prompting, and more than a few "your life is really going to change" comments said in a very ominous tone. I have been warned. But what's super great and unexpected is the generosity and desire to help being put out there by both good friends and people who were previously just acquaintances, because we share a link through The Public Belly.  With the smallest prompt (What's your monthly budget for your baby? What are the must-have items on a baby registry?), these folks will write the longest, most considered emails chock full of great information and resources.  I got an entire maternity wardrobe and some excellent baby books from some random chick on Craigslist for $30.  Mommas just out of the Public Belly phase will call up and be "do you want a bag of clothes? a crib? loaner on our infant car seat and stroller? a breast pump?" with zero prompting.  Everyone's pulling for us and offering all they have. Harkening back to the early Hillary Clinton days, it takes a village ... and the village is already jumping in there big-time.  I am grateful and awed.

Different aspects of The Public Belly came up when I started going to prenatal yoga classes. Now, as you'd expect, a yoga studio in The People's Republic of Boulder dedicated 100% to prenatal and postnatal woman and baby care is probably going to be a little hippy dippy. And it is. In a very good way. Every single class involves "checking in", when you go around the room and talk about what you're experiencing in your pregnancy, both good and bad. OK, no news to any of you, but I am not a natural sharer. Even though I was warned by friends, objectively it seemed a little strange to be hanging out in stretchy pants with a bunch of other belly-ized women talking about our highly personal experiences, fears and feelings while doing Kegels. Yet 'the checkin' is somehow natural; yoga class is a cherished opportunity to process what's going on in my own pregnancy and putting it in a greater context by hearing about the experiences of others. I know way more about the emotional lives of some of the yoga class regulars than I do about some of my friends. And these strangers have gotten an earful about my stresses related to remodeling (aka husband nesting) and having my partner gone for weeks at a time and not understanding why my liver suddenly hates me. But we're all in this together, so it makes sense to bare all and let the others in the room help you through it.

And a few weeks ago, I got to celebrate my first Mother's Day - a neighbor brought me a vase of flowers.  The Muffin and I are very lucky.