Ahead of the Curve

I'm entering the phase of pregnancy where sometimes, I mean all the time, it would just be easier to carry around a pre-recorded message of answers for predictable questions, and every time someone would approach, I could just press play.  Don't get me wrong, I love that those around me are wanting to share in the experience, and I'm very happy to oblige with answers, but two hours into my day and I start to feel like I'm starring in Bill Murray's Groundhog Day, with a pre-scripted litany of questions and subsequent reactions that are the same day after day. 

My pre-recorded, one-sided daily update would sound a little something like this:
"Yes, you're right, that baby is growing bigger."

"We're due the first week of January."

"Yes, the first week of January."

"No, no twins, we only have one in there."


And then maybe I can just mute what the other person is saying, turn away from their guffaws and jaw-drops, and go about my day feeling somewhat okay about how I look that day, never mind that my shirts are barely making clearance over my belly and I can't keep maternity pants up with a belt, a Bella Band, a rubber band, or a pulley system.

According to books and websites that I pay a very small amount of attention to, after a first pregnancy, your body "knows" how to be pregnant- stretch marks still in place from baby #1, you're all set to expand from the get-go.  So around week 10, I already felt some eyes wandering to my midsection, and telepathically heard people asking themselves, "was it one too many cupcakes or is she baking one herself....?"

I have lost count of how many people, like the crazy lady in the waiting room two blog entries ago, have asked if I'm having twins.  How many people have responded, "oh, uh, wow," when they hear my due date.  I met someone the other day who, upon introducing herself, said, "and it looks like you're about to have a baby!"  Ah, very astute.  "When are you due?"  I pressed play.  "Oh, wow, it looks like you're going to have a big baby then!" 

Seriously people, really?  As a good friend of mine pointed out, it's not like we comment on other people's abnormally large nose, lips, bad hair, lisp, or body type.  Because that would be rude.  If there's any time in your life when you need verification that you're still looking okay enough to go out in public, it's when your face, fingers and feet swell, your butt expands to make finding a comfortable chair impossible, your face breaks out worse than when you were fourteen, and your belly looks like you've swallowed a small sasquatch. 

For the record, things to avoid saying to a pregnant woman: (and I have heard all of these, multiple times):

1) "How many babies do you have in there?"
2) "I was just like you, I got HUGE with my baby."
3) "Do you need me to push in my chair further for you to get by?"
4) "You're going to have a biiiiig baby."
5) "You must be due any day now!  Oh, you have three months left?  Huh..."

Instead, try:

1) "You look fantastic!" (Lies are perfectly fine as long as they are delivered with confidence).
2) "You really are glowing." (Even if it's just sweat from trying to climb eight stairs).
3) "Look at you, you're blossoming!" (doesn't that sound pretty?)
4) "But you don't look that tired." (Again, lies are perfectly fine).
5) "Here, you need another ice cream cookie sandwich." (Careful! Watch your fingers).

At the same time, I understand that it's only human nature to be curious, especially about something that seems so super-human.  People say things that are interpreted as rude, if not downright nosey and odd, I think because they separate the thing from the person.  It's the belly, not my belly; the pregnancy, not my pregnancy...and somehow, it's a little bit their baby too...which further supports Michael's gentle reminders to me when I complain about the comments: "People are just excited.  They want to be a part of the experience," he says.  Which is a very good point.  We are so, so blessed to be expecting another baby, and treasure that those around us treasure it too.  So come on over and eat chips with me on the couch, I'm more than happy to share.