Luscious hair and peace with the pregnant body
This week I received, from Thyme Maternity, a catalogue masquerading as a magazine. Tucked in amongst the photos of an impossibly skinny yet supposedly pregnant model sporting the chain's fall line were articles meant to appeal to the expectant mother. The articles, somewhat repetitive as they were, often touched on the upside of pregnancy. Two of the so-called pros of pregnancy nearly triggered a bout of preggie emotion: that pregnant women have great hair, and that they and make peace with their bodies.
Not so much here.
My hair has always been thick. Almost unmanageably thick. And with pregnancy I am losing maybe a half dozen hairs each day, far fewer than the handfuls that usually come out each time I brush, comb, or shampoo. So that much is true. However, at my last haircut four weeks ago, I was more daring than I ought to have been. (My stylist is wonderful and does a fantastic job; I take full responsibility for the outcome of this particular haircut. Clearly, one should not make lasting decisions whilst pregnant.) And I loathe the result. The overall length is shorter than ever, but the layers mean that I cannot even tuck my hair behind my ears. No ponytails, either, which is probably what annoys me the most. When I was in Ontario and it was 36o Celsius, I would have dearly loved to be able to tie my hair up, to get it off my face and out of my way. Even after four weeks, my options are extremely limited. And it seems that any attempt to style my hair brings about a 'do that is frighteningly reminiscent of Maggie Thatcher. Not my role model for anything!
And then there's the belly envy, of which I've already written about a couple of times. I wish I was one of those cute stick-figure-with-a-basketball type pregnant women. Ok, I wasn't a stick person to start with. Never have been, never will be; even as an underweight teenaged ballet dancer, although you could count my ribs, I still was somewhat pear shaped. Yet I thought that even if I couldn't be the stick figure type, maybe I'd at least still have the basketball. But no. If I have a basketball, it was never fully inflated. I'm still not over it. I'm ok with the weight I've gained (I've been told that it is 'textbook perfect'), but I wish I had the classic look as far as the belly goes.
So, no, in these regards I'm even more disappointed in and frustrated with my body than usual. So much for making peace with my body.
Not so much here.
My hair has always been thick. Almost unmanageably thick. And with pregnancy I am losing maybe a half dozen hairs each day, far fewer than the handfuls that usually come out each time I brush, comb, or shampoo. So that much is true. However, at my last haircut four weeks ago, I was more daring than I ought to have been. (My stylist is wonderful and does a fantastic job; I take full responsibility for the outcome of this particular haircut. Clearly, one should not make lasting decisions whilst pregnant.) And I loathe the result. The overall length is shorter than ever, but the layers mean that I cannot even tuck my hair behind my ears. No ponytails, either, which is probably what annoys me the most. When I was in Ontario and it was 36o Celsius, I would have dearly loved to be able to tie my hair up, to get it off my face and out of my way. Even after four weeks, my options are extremely limited. And it seems that any attempt to style my hair brings about a 'do that is frighteningly reminiscent of Maggie Thatcher. Not my role model for anything!
And then there's the belly envy, of which I've already written about a couple of times. I wish I was one of those cute stick-figure-with-a-basketball type pregnant women. Ok, I wasn't a stick person to start with. Never have been, never will be; even as an underweight teenaged ballet dancer, although you could count my ribs, I still was somewhat pear shaped. Yet I thought that even if I couldn't be the stick figure type, maybe I'd at least still have the basketball. But no. If I have a basketball, it was never fully inflated. I'm still not over it. I'm ok with the weight I've gained (I've been told that it is 'textbook perfect'), but I wish I had the classic look as far as the belly goes.
So, no, in these regards I'm even more disappointed in and frustrated with my body than usual. So much for making peace with my body.
posted by Melanie A at 5:15 p.m.
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