When they were still PB&J

Pregnant bellies are measured by fundal height. They quit taking that measurement when i was 23 weeks pregnant, measuring at 35 weeks by singleton standards. The OB who measured me that time was impressed by my belly’s width, remarking that I certainly was carrying across rather than outward.

He wasn’t kidding. I gave up trying to push in the head or butt that almost constantly bulged beneath my side shirt seams. My manipulations only made the baby on my other side push out that much more.

I can still see the lopsided shape my babies made of me. With the girls both on my right side and the weight of it all riding fairly low, I can see a bit of extra bulge on my right when I lie flat. No one else would ever notice, but I love that I can.

I never posed for maternity photos. With weekly doctor visits and all the impending costs with delivering and raising triplets, I just couldn’t bring myself to splurge on anything that looked remotely nice enough for professional photographs. Part of me regrets that, but part of me wonders if I would have even felt up to making myself look nice enough for professional photographs. One thing’s certain, I regret not having them done because I never got a photo of Rob and I together while I was pregnant – I was usually curled up on the couch or in bed by the time he came home in the evening, and I never thought to take a photo on the weekends.

My pregnancy was exhausting. It was easygoing in the vomit department, and I never fought with swelling, but my body was downright burdened with the rapid expansion. A heating pad and giant ice pack were my best friend, and I lived in yoga pants and forgiving shirts. I was rarely comfortable, and I often showed that in my almost-weekly self portraits (and I never had the forethought to pose in the same room or even the same position).

I was proud of the belly I grew, though, and I often made Rob try lifting it toward the end, completely in awe of how heavy my belly felt and how I could, in fact, lift it. I’m still proud of it and the fact that, despite giving birth 12 weeks early at 28 weeks and 1 day my three tiny preemies were right at the 50th percentile for singletons.

My body grew three perfectly average babies all together at one time.