This post seemed to need a super sexy title, so I decided to go with “Dispatches from Fatty Pregnancyland.”

This past weekend, I attended the bridal shower of one of my college roommates. I was seated at table mostly filled with people I knew. At some point, the subject of possible names for our upcoming bundle of terrifying joy was broached.

“Oh!” said the one woman at the table whom I didn’t know. “You’re pregnant? I couldn’t even tell you’re pregnant. I thought you were just…”

Then her voice trailed off and she looked down busily at her plate of stuffed shells.

“Fat?” I prodded gently, nodding and pausing to shovel in a bite of a large slice of strawberry cake (COME TO ME, TRANS FAT FROSTING CORNER PIECE WITH THE BIG ROSE NO ONE ELSE WANTS). “Yep. I know.”

You people who avoid slices with frosting roses are dead to me.

And it’s true–and just like I predicted and just like last time. My body has done a meritorious job of putting on weight since November (let’s all be polite and keep the exact number to “just somewhere slightly south of 20 pounds” and then forget we read that), but I still just look like a misplaced porn star who got pretty paunchy since her last film.

(If I’m ever an honest-to-goodness porn star, my debut will involve something with great big corner pieces of strawberry cake. I decided this somewhere around my third slice this weekend. It was rather momentous.)

Anyway, no one at the doctor’s office seems very worried about the weight gain, or the lack of pregnancy-looking-ness. Then again, they probably take one look at me during appointments and then bite back remarks, fear as they do that I will club them to death with my Breasts of Hugeness. These nurse practitioners might be medically trained, but they’re not stupid.

For now, I’d settle for just a few more signs of the baby himself. Turns out that I have an anterior placenta this time around, which I understand to mean that the baby has rested himself on his comfy organ of blood supply at the front of my uterus instead of the more common back of the uterus. This also seems to mean that kicks and punches are very muted and difficult to feel.

Or maybe he just needs more, er, strawberries.

P.S. Next post! Will need your help! Adam has decided that since his name, my name, and Aura’s name all consist of four letters, the baby’s should too. Adam’s best suggestion so far is Shiv. I’m going to need some advice. Either that or I’m going to need to find a real shiv to settle the issue. And you know what they say about fatherless boys.

BuenoBaby

March 15, 2012 | 9:54 pm

Best part (only part) about pregnancy I enjoyed? Letting my gut hang out. Elastic-waist pants really take the pressure off being a girl.

Enjoy your corner piece:)

Sara Plays House

March 16, 2012 | 9:53 am

The best part of pregnancy is eating nachos every day. You keep your nasty frosting and pass me the cheese, please. Wait. I’m not pregnant. Nevermind.
In other news, if I had a son, I would have named him Seth. Which fits your four letter criteria. YOU’RE WELCOME.

Nicole

March 16, 2012 | 9:56 am

De-lurking to say OOO I love baby names!
Eric? John? Liam? Noah? Finn? Luke? Evan? Jude? Ryan? Seth? Ezra? Jace? Aden? Alan? Aldo?

liz

March 16, 2012 | 10:43 am

good for you. go get those frosting flowers preggo lady! you are owed those frosting effers!
baby names with 4 letters….hmmm….Sean? That’s my contribution. You’re welcome.
xo

Alyssa @NearNormalcy

March 16, 2012 | 11:46 am

Jack! Noah! Fido! Oh, wait, not that last one, ok?

Breenah

March 16, 2012 | 12:06 pm

Since Adam & Aura are A’s, the boy should be a K.
Kyle? Kael? Kerr? They start getting a little extra unique though.
Also, keep on eating as much cake as you want!

Justine @ The Lone Home Ranger

March 16, 2012 | 1:11 pm

Love that, “dead to me.” Stealing that.

If we had a third, and it was a boy, I like Rhys. However, I’m more likely to get a shiv than a third child from my husband. So go ahead, you use it! I’ll feel better if it’s out there somewhere.

March 16, 2012 | 2:43 pm

True story: my paternal grandfather FORBADE his wife from giving any of their three children names longer than 4 letters. He was worried they would be at a disadvantage when they got to elementary school and had to learn to write/spell their names, and presumably the shame and humiliation of that experience would undermine them for the rest of their natural lives.

In retaliation, she gave them all super long middle names.

(But for the sake of giving you options, she chose Alan, Eric and Lois. Personally, I’d skip Lois.)

julie gardner

March 16, 2012 | 3:22 pm

I want to give KP a big fat corner-piece of strawberry cake for her Lois comment.

As for names, we have never regretted choosing Jack for our son.

Everyone knows how to pronounce it and no one ever gives the “weird” face when they hear it.

It’s cute on a baby boy but also manly for an adult; and although it’s the name of every cool movie hero and/or television president (think Harrison Ford-ish characters) we know no other boys in real life with that name. (My son is almost 15, though. This could have changed.)

Anyway, I’m sure you’ll give him something great. But if you decide to go with Lois, be prepared for the weird face.

JulieVK

March 16, 2012 | 6:12 pm

Yeah, I want to play the name-someone-else’s-baby game, too! Dane, Aron, Liam, Sean?

Brenda

March 16, 2012 | 10:35 pm

Doug? Kyle? Chad? Kirk? Rafe?

I do love baby names.

Jessica

March 19, 2012 | 12:32 pm

I always hated the part of pregnancy where you looked fat instead of pregnant. Maybe you should keep shoving your face with icing flowers so you move past the fat looking stage to the pregnant looking stage faster.

And for boy names, how about Earl or Fred.

Kim

March 20, 2012 | 8:47 am

You can sit by me. Frosting can go to hell. I just want CAKE.
PS – Finn is my cat’s name. Just saying.

Random thoughts from the ether, otherwise known as: When in doubt, mention Jon Hamm. | and then kate.

March 26, 2012 | 8:52 pm

[...] This post seemed to need a super sexy title, so I decided to go with “Dispatches from Fatty Pr… [...]

JD @ Honest Mom

March 26, 2012 | 9:02 pm

I’m eating cake tonight because it’s two days before my kid’s 6th birthday. What, that’s not a cake-eating occasion?

And a four-letter name? Alec.

Next on my hit list: The genius who coined the phrase “the birds and the bees.” | and then kate.

April 5, 2012 | 2:30 pm