Saturday, April 6, 2013

The Tattooed Belly

Yesterday I was looking for pictures of my tattoo to accompany a story I'm writing about...well, my tattoo. The story isn't for this blog, or my other blog, but for a blog called Pen & Ink. I doubt they'll want it though, because I'm finding that the only people who want to read my stories are forty or so of those who willingly choose to have my words shoved into their faces every few days - YOU, dear readers!

Anyway. They asked for a picture of said tattoo, and in the story I talk about how the guy getting ready to scar me for life asked if I'd like to rethink the location, as I'd chosen my belly, and he wondered if perhaps I'd like to take my future as a pregnant woman into account. I scoffed at him, saying "I'm never going to have babies!" and, away he went. This is what I chose. It seemed like a good idea at the time:
Yep, it's a giant...fairy

As you all know, I did have babies! Ha! Silly, young, trusted-in-the-half-assed-rhythm-method me! But as these things turn out, it's awesome that I did, and I had a lot of fun being pregnant with my son. My belly grew the biggest in the spring and summer, and I refused to go in for all of the maternity clothes propaganda. That's bullshit! I thought. I can totally wear my normal clothes!

And so I did.

Sure I bought a stretchy skirt or two, but for the most part I walked around looking like I was wearing toddler clothing.

But before we get to that, this is the picture I chose for the tattoo story, just in case you never see it. A before and after. Well, a before and during, actually. For a the after you could revisit this old blog post, where the tattoo is hard to see but I can assure you, is completely perfect:

Hi, 19? Meet yourself at 26. Sorry about that. 
So as you can see, I wasn't shy about my belly. I wore it out everywhere, much to the horror of sweet little old grannies and short-shorted tweens everywhere. I think the latter was just offended that I was wearing the same size tank tops as them.

Pregnant girl with pig
One day my friend Josie and I went to the fair and took some funny photos. I won't share them all with you here. You're welcome.

I thought this picture was HiLARious!
Right after this one was taken, we went to the cake auction, where I accidentally bid on a cake shaped like a chicken. Like, 3D, not just a flat cake with a beak on it. And by 'accidentally' I mean I kept raising my hand to bid on it because I really, really wanted that cake. I didn't think I'd outbid everyone else, though. Needless to say, I did. Unfortunately I was the only one working at that time, and I knew we didn't have the TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY DOLLARS I'd just bid. I told the auctioneer I'd been waving away a fly, and let my dream cake go. I'm still very sad about it.

I didn't only whip out the belly during silly occasions. I busted it out for super fancy fundraiser garden parties, too:

RIP to my sweet friend Merede.
This made me miss her so much. xo
I also adorned it while meeting authors that I admired and had helped to shape my entire youth and life. When I got to the front of the autograph line, Tom Robbins was eating a muffin. He looked for a few seconds at my stomach and then said "nice belly," while spitting some crumbs in my direction. I'm still waiting to be featured in one of his books - I know he hasn't forgotten me.

I tried to pull my shirt down a little. But why?!
He loved the belly!
I also thought it was great to buy shirts that were not only too small, but said something on them to indicate that I had a good sense of humor about being pregnant:

I have another one that had a picture of a big fat Buddha on it and said "For Good Luck Rub the Belly." I was particularly fond of that shirt, and as my stomach grew larger I would simply cut the shirt shorter so I could keep wearing it. Maybe I should have also found a shirt that said "Classy."

So the whole point of this search was to show that the tattoo was not obliterated by my getting pregnant. It remains there.



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