Yesterday I flashed back to a blog post on the What To Expect When You’re Expecting Web site that I read a month ago about things people should not say to pregnant women. It was dubbed “What Not To Say To Pregnant Women” and at the time it blew me away.
Now parts of it are becoming my reality.
I am 12 days away from my due date. I am definitely ready for this little girl to be born but I honestly won’t mind if she arrives right on time, her due date of Nov. 15 is a Sunday, then my six weeks of maternity leave will run all the way through the holidays and have me back in the office right after New Year’s. Seems ideal to me.
Read through the comments of that blog and quite a few women mention that the closer they get to their due date the more silly things people say to them, like, “You’re still pregnant?”
Let me backtrack a minute. On Sunday, Jason’s parents, Art and Gale, came down to help out with a few little last minute details around the house. Art raked our leaves and mowed the front law — I am sure my neighbors love him for this since we had a TON of leaves out there — and Gale put the Winnie the Pooh appliques to the wall next to the baby’s crib. They look super cute and I will add a photo of that later today, promise!
Because I had a serious nesting fit last Tuesday night, I had washed and folded all of the clothes and blankets I received at the baby shower, as well as organized and put away most of the other items. Gale had planned to come help me do that. Instead, we went shopping.
While we’re driving she tells me people at her church in Bellevue have been asking, “Is there a baby, yet?” I think others in her professional and social circles have asked, as well, but I lost track.
And I’m thinking, “Um, don’t these people realize that if the baby, her first grandchild, had arrived by now she WOULDN’T be around to ask?”
Duh.
So, yesterday people were surprised I was at work. I’m telling you, the baby is in no rush, and delivering early isn’t really all that common anyway if the statistics I’ve read are correct. After the third person that asked me basically, “You’re still pregnant?” I got a little annoyed.
“Next person that asks me that is going to get smacked!”
It actually got pretty funny after that, but, I think I’ll keep that story to myself.
But, that’s what fell out of my mouth. I try to be more tactful with people but for crying out loud, she has a due date, there’s nothing saying she is required to come out early or even on time. Of course, we know that I’ll be induced if she decides to be late, but anyway…
So, my suggestion is, don’t ask the really pregnant chick if she’s still pregnant. Just a bad idea.
What’s funny is that when you’re pregnant, you deal with this in various forms the entire time. At first people want to hear about how miserable you are with morning sickness and so on, and as I had none of that, I left a lot of disappointed people in my wake. Which is strange.
Then you hear the horrible miscarriage stories. Add to that all the awesome advice you get about everything under the sun. And people predicting if it’s a boy or a girl based on old wives tales.
Then things kind of settle down a bit as you get ready for your baby shower. People just ask you how you’re feeling eight million times a day. I have a friend who is coming up to the end of her first trimester and she has not yet announced it to the world, so, I sent her a message last week asking her how she was feeling with the advice to expect that for the next six months. I tried to give her some practical insights about being pregnant and the things she’ll hear from people with the hope she won’t feel as homicidal as I did at time.
Oh, yes, I hid it well because I love you all too much to bite your heads off. I only do that to my husband, poor thing.
Anyway, fast forward to the end of the third trimester, you have your baby shower and now you’re hearing horror stories about things other people’s children did as toddlers.
Or people comment on your size. I was at my friend Leana’s baby shower a couple weeks ago and someone called her a pumpkin at her place of employment.
Yes, I know I’m waddling, yes I know I’m huge. Thank you for reminding me.
I am trying really hard to remain positive. No one wants to hear the pregnant lady complain TOO much about being uncomfortable because, well, you do KNOW this condition can be prevented. *wink, wink, nudge, nudge, say no more*
Thankfully I have not heard labor horror stories. Either that or I’ve blanked them out.
The nice thing about that blog, which is nearly a year old now, is that it and all the comments reminded me that I am indeed not alone in the insanity known as the final days of pregnancy.
Oh, man, I just got that song, “The Final Countdown” by Europe going in my head. Ugh.
Just 12 more days, 13 if I have to be induced.
Trust me, when I’m not pregnant anymore, you’ll know. So, quit asking.