Pregnancy takes its toll on the body in many clear, physical ways. To me, however, some of the most difficult adjustments have been sort of silly. You’re telling me my feet hurt after walking just a half hour? That my ribcage is about to burst because I’ve slouched at my desk? That I can’t get by on just six hours of sleep a night? Pshaw! Oh, wait. It’s true. Pregnancy is a round-the-clock job, with the fatigue and the wear and tear to prove it.
I Cannot Bear to Admit It: the W-A-D-D-L-E Happened
Was that a waddle? A completely legit, pregnant woman waddle?! Yes. Thankfully, no one asked me those questions. I asked them of myself, shortly after catching myself in an odd little side-to-side walk that reminded me of a penguin. I have tried to ward the waddle off ever since, but it occasionally rears its head when I’m tired or overloaded with things to carry. Ugh.
I’ve also decided that it’s pretty much impossible to do laundry frequently enough to keep up with my meager collection of maternity work attire, so I’ve indulged in another small outing to gather some preggers gear. As much as I love to shop, I’m also trying to remind myself that these clothes are not for keeps—it’s not worth investing much in pieces that will be out of my rotation just two or three months from now!
It Must Be a Man Thing: Mentioning the Belly
In lighter news, I’m at the stage (I suppose) when it should be pretty obvious to most people that the bump on my belly is not just an unusual distribution of body fat. However, it seems most women are too polite to assume so. Invariably, I get a few comments a week from strangers on my pregnancy, but they are all from men. Women do not seem to feel comfortable asking or commenting (with the exception of the coffee shop lady who decided I needed decaf coffee because of it—curses!).
I can’t really convince myself that women don’t pick up on it (especially women at work). Instead, I think they tend to just err on the side of caution and ask someone else after I’ve left. Men, on the other hand, put it all out there—taking a risk, I suppose, in the process.
“Happy Mama’s Day, Ma’am!” was the greeting I received from an older gentleman riding his bike away from the grocery store.
“Is this your first? When are you due? I have three kids—ten years apart each!” was the first thing a cashier said to me when I approached the counter at a deli.
“How far along are you? You’re in for a hot summer, I’m sorry to say!” was the remark I received from the windshield repairman who came to fix my two little windshield cracks at my office parking lot.
Thankfully, they were all correct in their suppositions. I’d hate to be them when they guess wrong, though, if they make comments like these a habit! It’s nice to hear, however, and it’s also a comfort to know that I at least look the part: 28 weeks pregnant.
Mother’s Day for Pregnant Ladies is A-Okay with Me
Although I have no baby to put a handprint on a card for me, I do happen to have a sweet Hubby who thought I deserved to celebrate Mother’s Day with the rest of the Mama World. This post is a bit late in acknowledging it, but I thought it was fabulous to be recognized by the Hubs, my parents, my in-laws, and even that man on his bike for being—at the very least—a Mama in the making.
My husband took some time to take care of some projects in the yard I’d been wanting, and treated me to a nice afternoon of pampering. In addition, I received two cards and some texts and notes from family. I figure if Hallmark acknowledges pregnant mothers in published greeting card language, then it must be official: pregnant women deserve to celebrate Mother’s Day, too!
Until next week,
The Preggers Geek