Chapter 16 - Beautiful and round and ripe for daddy’s pickin’s

On Saturday, April 6th, at 21.5 weeks, we do a very small get together and a social media live video for the gender reveal this time. Mikhail has 2 friends come, plus Sarah and Matt, and Megan, my old coworker, actually takes me up on the invitation. Sarah set up the small get together at a park, along with her sister Sandy of course. Sandy is looking a bit…plumper than at Matty Jr’s birthday party a couple months prior. But then I look over at Sarah in her tent of a dress, waddling around and out of breath at all times, she also appears to have gained some weight. Sandy is a bit heavyset, and her belly does appear to be sticking out further than I remember. Sarah’s weight gain, on the other hand, is harder to notice since she doesn’t have much shape to her body and it’s difficult to notice a sphere gaining circumference.

I pull my tight dress down a little, attempting to smooth it to make it a bit longer but my belly takes the stretchy material’s length away almost instantly. I puff my cheeks out, sigh, sit back down, and shove another cupcake in my mouth with the other hand on my distended belly that acts as the table for my plate. I feel the heaviness of the party foods and…probably 6 cupcakes at this point, digesting around with the sweet tea that washed it all down. I try to rub some comfort into my constantly discomforted belly with little help. I try to spread my legs a little more but the armrests of the chair restrict me so my belly is left to rest on top of my thighs, pressing up and out towards my knees

This morning the scale read 250, which makes me heavier now than I was at birth with the girls. At this point, I was bedridden and unable to move, my belly too large and heavy for me to carry it for longer than a restroom trip. This time, my body has grown accustomed to being larger and therefore I have a little more muscle in my legs. I’m able to stand and move around, but 250 is still quite heavy so I sit often but I’m not bedridden…yet. I know it’s coming, though. I tried to calculate how I’ve gained on average 2-3lbs per week and it seems like I’ll weigh about 280 by 36 weeks at this rate…will probably be more, though. Oof. Mikhail has stepped up his helping game these last few weeks. Not sure if it’s because he sees how much my body is struggling, or it’s because he wants to keep me fat at this point. I enjoy being pregnant. I enjoy not worrying so much about my weight. I enjoy being able to eat 6 cupcakes without anyone batting an eye like I just did. I enjoy the belly rubs and the surreal full feeling and heaviness between food and babies. I rub my belly with my eyes closed for a second then feel the familiar hand of my husband join me.

“It’s almost time for the reveal, beautiful.” Mikhail kisses the top of my head and helps heave me slowly to my feet, his hand catching my front heavy center of gravity. Sarah baked 3 full sized cakes for some reason, one for each baby. We cut into each and discover we’re having 2 boys and 1 girl this time. We take a photo holding the girls and us with the cakes, commemorating when we found out their siblings’ genders. Sandy cuts up the cakes while Sarah sits near her at the table. She asks if it’s alright if she has some cake, I nod, and she grabs a whole cake and digs in.

“Easy there,” Sandy chimes in, looking a little sideways at her obese sister. “Aren’t you trying for another kid?”

“We are, but I’m about to start my period and craving sweets so bad right now. You understand, right Annie?”

“I haven’t had a period in over a year so not exactly,” I laugh, patting my bump one of my nursing daughters lay resting on. “Just ravenous pregnancy cravings which I have way less luck controlling this time.”

“I can’t imagine what it’s like to have triplets, especially back to back,” Sandy says. “I found out not long ago that I’m expecting, but I’m sure you couldn’t tell.”

“Congratulations,” I say excitedly, trying not to stare but also already speculating. “How far along are you?”

“Oh, only about 3 months,” Sandy says, giving her belly a little pat, ”but I know I look further because I’ve been packing on the weight so easily this time. I’m not as young as I used to be and anything salty or fatty just seems to make its way to my mouth. Maybe I’m having another boy. What did you crave? I don’t remember.”

Sarah chuckles for a second between mouthfuls of cake. “I didn’t really have cravings with Matty. Just ravenous hunger like Annie talked about. I couldn’t stop eating. I still can’t stop eating. That Stuffing Method really stirred up a fire inside my stomach I haven’t been able to satisfy. Every time you guys see me I can say ‘I’m at the heaviest I’ve ever been’ because I keep gaining weight. I feel it in my knees and hips, but my boobs have grown a little more at least. Don’t worry, Annie, you won’t ever be bigger than me. I know that’s been on your mind, knowing how you’ve been about your weight, comparing yourself to others.” I try not to blush as she continues talking. “I’m up to 350, but will probably be more by the time I finish this cake. Where are you at, Annie?”

“Uh, this morning the scale said 250, which is almost what I weighed at birth with the girls. I’m trying to slow down my eating,” I say as I realize I was about to unwrap another cupcake.

“Girl,” Sandy chimes in, “I’m 275 and NOT pregnant with triplets. Eat. Enjoy. You’re fine.”

Something about this empowers me so I unwrap the cupcake and continue eating while the sisters chat. Sandy even made me a not-so-little snack plate that I placed on top of my bump next to my sleeping baby so I could lean back and enjoy. I feel my shorts underneath my dress digging into my belly as I eat my…10th cupcake, I believe. But that’s also meeting the chips, pretzels, jello, rice crispy treats, cold cuts, fruit, vegetables, and various finger foods that weighed me down to the chair. Mikhail eventually comes over, stands to my side and places a hand on the side of my belly.

“Need anything?” he asks.

“I need to pee. But I can’t get up,” I whisper. “Sandy keeps refilling my plate, the baby fell asleep on me, and I’m too full to move.”

Mikhail takes our second daughter off my chest and places her in a pack ‘n play nearby, then grabs my arm and helps me stand up, grabbing my belly as usual. “Wow, you do seem full. Your belly feels really solid.”

I slowly waddle to the restroom and return, plopping myself down in the chair, once again the sides of my belly grazing the armrests. “How do you do it?” I ask Sarah, still stuffing her face with treats alongside Sandy who looks to be giving in to some of her salty cravings. “How do you keep eating when you can feel the chair getting smaller?”

“I’ve just gotten used to it, I think,” Sarah says with a smirk. “I’m literally 100lbs more than you, Annie, so to me you’re still small, even though your belly is massive. You’re pregnant and like last time, your weight goes to your 3 B’s so your boobs and butt are also getting massive. I’m fat and flab and round. I just sit slowly and listen for creaking before I commit. I hope I get pregnant soon so I can really enjoy all the food I want.”

“What are you doing now?” Sandy says, taking a jab at her obese sister.

“Holding back some,” Sarah laughs with a mouthful of cake. “This is Annie’s day. She deserves to eat until she can’t move, not me.”

“Oh, I’m already pushing that limit.” I rub my very bloated, very round belly that’s barely contained in my dress. “I don’t want to rip this dress completely. I wore this before birth with the girls.”

“Nonsense, you’re all babies there,” Megan says as she walks over with a warm smile. She appears to have lost a little weight, maybe down from 250 to 225, and confidently beautiful as usual.

“Hey, Megan,” I say as I turn my attention towards her. “Sorry I haven’t really been able to talk much today. I’ve pretty much been glued to this chair. I’m bigger and heavier this time so I’m struggling.”

“You’re fine and beautiful as always,” she smiles, pushing her brown hair behind her shoulder. That feels like a great compliment coming from her. “You’re doing something some women can’t do. You’re carrying a child, and 3 at once at that! For a second time! Don’t worry so much about your weight and worry about having healthy babies again. Would you like more to eat?”

“Sure,” I say with a smile, watching Megan walk away to get me a plate. At that moment I realize I’m not hungry, but something about the way she says things and what she says comforts me and makes me agree. I thank her when she returns, learn a little more back, place the plate on top of my belly, and grab the food from over my growing chest that poses an issue at times. Maybe by the end of this pregnancy, my boobs will slow down and give me more belly surface area to use.

Megan sits next to me as I eat and about halfway through, she reaches over and rubs the side of my firm belly nearest her. “I send you a link for chairs with wide armrests,” Megan said, running her hand along where my belly expands outwards, starting to press more into the armrest of the chair I’m sitting in. I grow red in the face and embarrassed by the idea. “Don’t even think about it that way,” she assures me after seeing my face. “You’ll really enjoy the extra room when nursing the babies, too.”

“That could work,” I say after swallowing some food that is making me way too full but I can’t stop myself. Her hand on my belly feels so good, distracting me from how much I’m adding to the previous cupcakes and food. “I’m only getting bigger by the day and I still have about 14ish weeks to go. I’m already hurting and exhausted so I’m going to be bedridden again for certain.”

“You were bedridden last time?” Megan asks with odd excitement in her voice.

“Yes, I technically am now, but was put on bedrest for the duration of my last pregnancy so I didn’t get out much, but the last 2 weeks or so I was literally laying in bed the whole time. I gave up on most clothes and had to have my husband bring me food and help me out of bed to use the restroom. Funny enough, though, I was at the weight I’m at now, but less fat and more baby, at their birth. I guess my body gained some muscle and figured out how to maneuver in its larger form, but I’m sure from here on out I’ll be slowing down and sitting more until I’m back in bed all day.”

“Fascinating,” Megan quietly says while staring at my belly, her hands still on it as if measuring. She continues asking questions about how it feels and what my cravings are, saying how she still won’t be having kids any time soon so wants to live vicariously through me. She offers to come over sometime after work when I get closer to my due date to help Mikhail. Not sure if she’s being nice or really means it, but I thank her for the offer. I finish my plate at which point I’m stuffed beyond measure. I feel like one wrong move and I’m going to throw up. Or break the chair. I feel my belly pressing more into the sides of the chair as it expands to digest everything I overfed it. My breaths are more shallow. Sandy hands me a glass of iced tea, which is delicious in this warm weather, but adds to the heaviness and fullness sloshing around in my midsection. I feel like I’m going to doze off, but I can’t at the same time because of the pressure and discomfort.

Our get-together winds down. Everyone leaves and I wait for Mikhail to come over to help me out of the chair. Sarah notices me heaving myself up and says, “ate yourself into a stupor?”

“You and Sandy didn’t help by feeding me,” I say, trying to pull my strained dress down. “Ugh, it feels so good to not be stuck in that chair. But my feet hurt. And my back hurts. Ugh, help me to the car, please, babe.”

Mikhail helps lift me slightly to get into the SUV, surprised he can still manage that. I lay the seat back and rub my belly until I’m in a half awake/half asleep state. I feel how my belly is back to feeling like a snow globe, sticking out big and wide in front of my body, yet my body itself is 50 lbs softer than previously. With all that in mind, these babies must be massive in comparison to the girls. No wonder I was pressing into the armrests on that small chair. I hear Mikhail get the carseats into the car and we drive home. I feel him glancing at me every so often.

“Can I help you?” I ask, peeking at him with one eye, still reclined somewhat.

“You’re just so damn beautiful.”

“Like right now? How?”

“You just are. I’ve told you before, there’s something primal in me that finds you irresistible while all pregnant and fertile.”

“To think we struggled for a year or so to get pregnant, and now here we are…cooking numbers 4, 5, and 6… I know I said this last time, but can we try not to get pregnant again right away, please? I’m already approaching my weight carrying capacity as is.”

“But you’re not even 22 weeks, babe?”

“Yes, but I weigh almost what I weighed at birth with the girls. I didn’t get to lose enough before these happened,” I say, continuing to rub my swollen midsection. “I’m gaining weight faster this time and keep overeating when thinking about how embarrassed I am by how fat I am. I’ve put on…nearly 25 lbs in the last like 6 weeks. Didn’t realize that until now.”

“You’re beautiful and round and ripe for daddy’s pickin’s,” Mikhail smiles at me while stopped at a red light, reaching over and rubbing the top of my belly. “You’re supposed to be on bedrest anyway. Like last time, I’ll help you as much as you need. I will keep you fed and happy.”

When we get home, Mikhail is on diaper duty while I nurse the girls. I have been producing more than enough milk for these 7 month olds, especially with the increased breast size thanks to being pregnant again. I read some women have to stop breastfeeding when they get pregnant because their bodies don’t produce enough, but the opposite has been true for me. My F-cup bras fill up and overflow a little before the babies nurse and drain them back to fitting in my bra. We’ve gotten a system down at this point which has helped. The babies are also sitting up on their own and starting to try solid foods this last month, so that puts less pressure on me as a solo food source now. Hasn’t helped curb my own hunger, though.

Just over an hour into being home and 2 babies down for a nap, Mikhail brings me a pint of oat milk ice cream without provocation.

“What’s this for?” I question, but knowing the answer.

“For numbers 4, 5, and 6 of course.” He sits next to me on the couch holding the one baby that isn’t napping while trying to eat an ice cream cone out of her reach.

“You really want me fatter, don’t you?”

“You looked like you could use something sweet. And I needed an excuse for some ice cream, too.”

“You don’t need to use me as an excuse,” I chuckle. “You can eat without me.”

“Well maybe I didn’t want to eat alone then.”

We watch TV together contently, mindlessly eating until baby #3 fell asleep, at which point I scraped the bottom of my pint with my metal spoon as if I really needed more.