I get a call around 11am for an audition at 3pm. It's for some random sports bar I've never heard of, and I'm supposed to dress like a "sports bar waitress." Normally, no big deal. But I'm nearly four months pregnant, and the only clothes that have been really fitting are maternity styles or sweatpants.

I consulted PS and his assistant. "What would a waitress in a sports bar wear?" I asked half-assedly. I figured I knew already - khaki pants and a collared shirt, like Chilis or something.

"Something sexy. Think Hooters girl," PS suggested.
"Maybe a tight black t-shirt and jeans?" offered his assistant.

Uh-oh. Apparently my concept of a sports bar server is a little different than that of the men in my life. And they'd probably know better - I don't like wings or sports, so the last time I was in a place that could be classified as a sports bar was probably around 1994.

I started digging through the limited part of my wardrobe that still fits, and settled on a black collared (but very low-cut) short sleeved shirt and the one pair of non-maternity jeans I can still squeeze my ass into. Tentatively, I looked in the mirror...and viola! Hello, somewhat cute sports bar waitress! I didn't even look pregnant!

Wait. I didn't even look pregnant. How was that possible?

At closer inspection (i.e., pulling up my shirt), it did indeed seem that my formerly huge baby belly had shrunk. I was back to looking like I just needed to do some crunches, and if I sucked in and stood up straight, I could almost pass as having a waist. I assumed it was just sheer luck, or maybe my bloat had subsided, and went on my merry way.

As soon as I walked into the casting office, I whispered a silent prayer of thanks to my hornball husband for urging me to go more sexy than utilitarian. The other girls in the waiting room were younger, hipper and all definitely years away from (planned) pregnancies or motherhood. And as for attire? Well, let's just say I undid another button on my shirt.

I spent the rest of the day congratulating myself for fooling everyone. Pregnant? Nah, the girl with the nice figure in her skinny jeans (no one had to know they were so tight that they were cutting into all my naughty bits) couldn't be pregnant!

Cut to this morning. I wake up, and approach our full-length mirror for my daily bump check. The belly is still flat as a pancake. I start to panic. Where did my bump go? How the hell can the baby be okay in there when it doesn't look like I could have anything bigger than a golf ball lurking under my skin?

I wake up P.S.. "Does my belly look shrunken to you?" I ask, moving closer and then farther away from the mirror, checking out the different angles.

He looks at me groggily. "Umm, it looks pretty much the same to me."

Despite the fact that he takes pictures for a living and is highly trained to analyze every curve of a woman's body (yeah, I know, real fun for his wife), I decided he was on crack. My baby must have gotten flattened. Maybe I slept on my stomach too hard or too often?

I turned around to head for the shower, lots of lovely negative thought floating in my brain, and as I did so I caught a glimpse of the other side of my naked self.

See, I always check my profile from one side - the left one. Don't know why; it's just a habit. My belly has been pretty clear to see using this normal methodology up until yesterday.

But now that I saw myself from the left side...there was my belly! It had been here all along, huge and round and, well, lopsided! My baby hadn't been flattened! Hallelujah!

Of course, that also means I probably looked pretty darn silly (and pregnant) at that audition. Especially as the camera was focused on my left profile.

Maybe it is time to come clean to my commercial agent...