I am now officially a fatty. With a vanishing waist and the appearance of my first love handles, I am a little curvy lady.
OK, yes I know, “I am not fat, but pregnant”, but try to explain that to my PD at work when she exclaimed, “You were so thin!” whilst looking at my flickr pics and then guiltily trying to cover it up “erm, I meant in this picture, not that you are not now, erm…”
No, she is not rude; she just doesn’t know that I am pregnant yet! Neither does my agency or anyone else I work with.
I find it hard to come out of the baby closet at work. Being a freelancer and not having an HR to back me up, as well as, no work, no payday, I wouldn’t want the pregnancy thing to come in the way in terms of favouring me for jobs.
I can imagine it happening: “should we call Maria for this full-week job? Hmm, maybe not because she might get tired.” Or “aww, she has to have a lunch break because she is pregnant” etc. You know the score.
One day they will realise that my ever-growing body contains another passenger and not fish and chips. And when that happens, it won’t be an issue, since I obviously didn’t make it one.
On a happy note, I have been feeling baby bouncing and dancing for the past two weeks! How exciting! She loves it when I eat sweet things like fruit or honey and I love it more when I can feel her little tiny kicks ;)
Two more weeks to go for the gender scan! Roll on!
