To Suck or Not to Suck

As a woman, half of your life is spent sucking in your stomach. By the age of 13, kids are cruel enough for even adolescence to learn this lesson. And I am no different than the average woman. Every dress that I have ever tried on has always had two looks. The first look was sucked in, and the second was the what-if-I-let-it-all-hang-out look. Depending on the time of the month, how many cookies I ate for breakfast, and how long the dress had to be worn were the final determinations. This has led me to a recent predicament. 

As my stomach has finally popped, I want nothing more than to bear a belly and let the world see my pregnancy. But while substitute teaching for kindergartners (who are known to blurt the truth), as I was letting it all hang out not one child or adult mentioned or asked if I was pregnant. This could only mean one thing. I did not look pregnant, but instead was in that awkward stage. I like to call this stage the Questionably Fat Stage. Strangers don't know you well enough, but you know they are asking themselves the inevitable questions; Is she fat or is she pregnant? Even acquaintances are thinking it, but are just too embarrassed to ask. 

My entire life I have been training my stomach muscles to pull in. They were worked out daily, whether the gym was involved or not. The worse I ate, the more exercise they got. But finally, it is socially acceptable to let it all hang out. And, boy, am I glad! However, my stomach seems to be in denial. It's a moment of discomfort as the pull gets pushed and the suck gets crossed over. My stomach is actually going through a bi-polar complex. In the end, I know there is no choice. Nature will take its course and take over my body. I am ready to give in and push, push, push my belly out for the world to see.