Three weeks ago (when I was six months and three weeks pregnant), no one would have dared ask if I was pregnant. They would instead allude to my pregnancy by asking, "Do you have children?" I always get a kick out of this. Yes, I will soon have the one you are staring at right now!
But a week or two ago, everything changed. Suddenly, everyone wants to know when I'm due. I think they really just want to confirm that they are onto my little secret of being pregnant. After all, how can they respond to "February 8" with anything but "ohhhh."
Of course they can continue the questions if they wish – "do you know what you're having?" I've found there's a secret Alliance of People Who Don't Find Out. They minute you tell them you're waiting to find out when it's born, they instantly feel a bond if either A) they've been pregnant and didn't find out, or B) they've ever known anyone in their lives that didn't find out. I personally love this little bond. I can only imagine that if I were to say "boy" or "girl," I'd get another "ohhhh."
I spent Thanksgiving with Kirk and my parents in Ruidoso, and I think I grew exponentially there. I'm not sure if it was the little muffin growing or the non-stop eating, but I definitely look like a different pregnant person now. I even had a first – someone I didn't know reaching out and rubbing my belly. I've always heard about this phenomenon, and I couldn't imagine that it would bother me. And it didn't, but it's just so… strange! I wonder what people would do if I reached right back out and patted them on the butt.
I just went to the grocery store in what I would consider an incognito outfit – sweatpants and my trusty (and generously sized) Life is Good sweatshirt. The perfect foil to a big belly. And still, the checker asked, "When are you due?" I was shocked that she could tell, but upon hearing the blessed day, she responded with the ever-popular "ohhhh." But this time, she followed up with a little anecdote about how her cousin had gotten huge all of a sudden at seven months too. Thank you, Miss Checker! In case you're wondering, I responded to her little story with "ohhhh."
The last little tidbit today is that getting up or especially reaching down to get things off the floor is suddenly a rigmarole. It's like my abs have deserted me. Who knew abs were so important? Getting things from the floor is often accompanied by an attractive little grunt. But more often than I care to admit, I just leave said item on the floor, deciding it's not really worth it to get it.
I remember when I first was pregnant, and I couldn't relate to all those women with beach balls under their shirts. No matter how far along I am, it's just impossible for me to believe I'm becoming one of them! Oh well, I've re-upped my commitment to stay peaceful with the knowledge I'm not in control, and I'll be practicing this lots over the next two and a half months, I'm sure.