Tuesday, March 23, 2010

You Don't Say...

I am feeling good. I am 37 weeks pregnant and I am actually still feeling good.

Sure, my hands are swollen, my feet are swollen, my skin breaks out in strange ways, but I can still unlock my office door (who invented glass doors with locks down near the floor), I can still hoist myself up and down the train stairs and my apartment building stairs, I can dance a little jig, and I can walk a mile, maybe two.

But the one thing that gets me down, that has me avoiding eye contact and looking for camouflage are people's comments. I have had men hit on me. Women suggest that maybe I should move the date of my c-section because I am getting so big. And countless, countless people say things like "you're ready to pop!" or "why are you still here" or "my god, are you having twins?"

Nothing deters these comments.


I have tried just smiling and laughing. I have tried joking. I have tried ignoring them. I have tried rational answers based on scientific data.

People remain undeterred.

So if you see a very pregnant lady hiding in the bushes at the train station, with evil eye necklaces and crucifixes piled around her neck, it's probably me. I can be lured out of the shadows with compliments. Avoid any mention of size or glow - just go with the standards, like... "You're doing great!" or "You look nice in that scarf!" - or even just "Glad to see you're still here!"

Better yet, let's talk about the weather. Or politics. Or how YOU are doing. You can glance down and get a good look at the baby... I don't mind that, just keep the commentary above the belt. No low blows, please. I'm begging you. Just leave me be and let me live out these last few weeks with some dignity and some privacy.

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