I've become one of 'those' women

You know them -- the ones that you see at stores, and you can't tell if they're pregnant or just overweight because the way their bodies are holding the extra pounds looks like it could go one way or the other. Yes. That's me.

I generally don't write about work because I don't want to lose my job, but since this is something that just happened to happen at work, and could of happened on the street or in a car, or on BART, or in the grocery store, or pretty much anywhere, I am going to write it, but only so much as to say that it happened at work and that's it.

Admittedly I've gained about 20 lbs in the past few months; I blame half of that weight on my own eating habits (I've turned into a choco-holic, a chipo-holic, and a cheeseo-holic, and quite the super snacker) and because of the medicine I'm on to combat my chronic pain. I've jumped up 2 sizes, I can't wear any of my pants that I could wear just a few months ago, and I had to go out and buy "fat" pants so I could stop squeezing my body into my size 8 jeans and, and most importantly, breath. I recognize that I'm a fatty, I'm not going to live in denial and pretend I weigh what I used to weigh (if that was the case, I'd still be wearing my size 8 pants and risking split seams and unsightly panty lines). I also bought some shirts that are springy but also to help camouflage my belly chubs.

But now I'm starting to realize that larger pants + spring shirts to hide belly chubs + protruding lower belly = unwarranted rumors that I might be pregnant.

Yes, I am that girl. The one every woman fears to be. And if I look pregnant right now, then I must be about 4-5 months along, and I would be telling everyone I know, especially people at work that I don't talk to that often -- right?

Oh, so wrong.

Me, being me (and aren't I a gem?), I freaked out and repeated that I was just fat when the pregnancy question was addressed to me by a co-worker whom I hardly talk to and who works on a different floor than me. I went from having an okay week after a very stressful one, to feeling like I'm under a microscope and realizing people were talking about me and someone started spreading some horrible rumor that I was pregnant (horrible only in the sense that it's a rumor). So yeah, me being me, and my brain being the way it is, I had a flood of thoughts come into my head, bounce around, and then it took everything for me to not vomit all the thoughts I was thinking out of my mouth.

I am trying to be more pleasant and open, you know.

From what I've heard, and if you actually want to be pregnant, planning to have a child is the greatest thing in the world. But why is it when you are pregnant or people suspect that of you, your body and personal business becomes everyone's business? Frankly, I find it rude. And embarrassing. My slightly shattered psyche (I'm still trying to recover from the years and years of self-abuse I've wielded upon myself) was ripped open like a nasty gash and all I wanted to do was run and hide. And cry. And to curse every piece of chocolate I've thrown down my gullet these past few months.

I've put this day at the top of my memory list of the most absurd things a person has said to me as they crossed that line known as common sense turns into blatant rudeness. It's right below the memory of someone telling me, "You know, you're not the nicest person, but I admire your work ethic."

I don't know what it is about me that leads people to think it's okay to say just about anything to me; perhaps my "questioning attitude" leads people to think I'm super secure and can take any word bombs thrown at me, but I have to throw it out there and tell everyone that I really don't want people's honesty unless they are someone I treasure in my life. I know, I know....very shocking.

So if I lost weight at this point, would the rumor be that I lost my non-baby? Man, what if someone saw me at a local pub, having a beer? I'd be labeled the worst mother ever! Right up there with Mrs. Spears-Federline.