I had the fortune to get an evening away with my husband – sans children – last night. We went to the Dublin Irish Festival because Gaelic Storm was playing. The concert venue seating was already full when we got to it an hour and a half early, so we found the best standing room area behind a row of seats and waited, unwilling to give up the best chance at seeing the stage.

As expected, other people believed if they just pushed in further, they could find better spots, even though we could see there was nothing left inside. So we had to deal with a steady stream of people squeezing and pushing past us. Some were rude about it (and drunk), others were trying to be polite. My feet endured the crushing weight of a few big drunk guys on them as they shoved their way into the crowd.

Early on, one lady squirmed her way around Aaron, looked at me said, “Excuse me, mama, comin’ through!” Her eyes had drifted to my belly when she said “mama” and as soon as she passed by I turned to Aaron.

“Did you hear that? She thinks I’m pregnant!”

“No, I didn’t hear her. I’m sure it was just a mistake, since the girl next to us is pregnant.”

And I tried to think of any reason to dismiss her comment. Maybe she calls everyone mama? Maybe she saw the kid next to us, belonging to the group with the actually pregnant woman, and thought he was with us? Maybe I was standing at an awkward angle?

But then just before the concert started, people began to switch direction and come out from the center, realizing there was no where to sit or stand comfortably in there. As one group tried to get past us, a woman pointed right at me and yelled back to her friend behind her, “Be careful, let’s not squish the pregnant lady!”

Somehow, Aaron completely missed that comment, too. But I was mortified. Everyone thought I was pregnant, and pregnant enough to confirm it out loud. But I know that no amount of sucking in my stomach can help me look better because it isn’t just the muscles or fat. It’s loose skin, left over from two pregnancies.

I’m working on tightening those muscles, and I’m still working out to get rid of any excess fat, but I don’t think the skin will ever bounce back. My only solution for now is to wear Spanx whenever I don’t want to look pregnant, because they do a great job at compressing all of that loose skin and flattening my stomach again. Maybe someday I’ll save up for a tummy tuck to remove that loose skin so I don’t look like I’m 4 month away from diapers, burp cloths, and every two hour feedings.

Although if it’s true that everyone at the concert thought I was pregnant, they were all being assholes by not offering me a seat. After standing in one spot for two and a half hours, I think I might have considered sticking out my stomach a little more if it would get me a seat.