Pregnancy Comments

Above: I took this picture on Sunday. I am now 37 weeks along (due exactly 3 weeks from today!) I like this picture because it shows Peter's first reaction to picture-taking...to get in on the action.
Above: I like this picture because it shows Peter's second reaction to picture-taking...to make a grab for the camera.

My sister (who is pregnant and due five days before me) recently posted on her blog regarding the things people say to you when you're pregnant.

It really is true that you get a lot of interesting comments and unasked for advice when you're pregnant.

I got a lot more comments the last time around (perhaps it was because I gained more weight or the fact that because I was still working, I was out in public a lot more). But I thought I'd share a few comments with you now!

1. "Wow! You're belly is HUGE!" comment by a co-worker when I was pregnant with Peter.
2. Some random guy in an elevator: "Are you having twins?" My answer: "No." His 100% serious and somewhat concerned response: "Are you sure?" What I thought, but didn't say: "Yeah, pretty sure! Thanks a lot, jerk!" This comment also happened when I was pregnant with Peter.
   
3. "You're going to have so many days where you wish your baby was right back inside of you." I had so many people say this to me when I was pregnant with Peter that I lost count. For the record, I HATE being pregnant and I never ONCE wished that Peter was back inside of me...even on my roughest, most emotional baby-blues days did I ever wish I was pregnant again! Besides, even though the first six weeks with Peter were an emotional baby boot camp rollercoaster (mostly due to the disappointment of failed breastfeeding, despite meeting with 3 lactation consultants), I absolutely loved holding him in my arms and marveling at what a precious little guy he was! I have always felt so blessed to have him in my life. He is a miracle and I am so grateful that I was able to participate in that miracle by helping to give him life!
   
4. The time when someone asked me how far along I was with Peter (fourteen weeks, at the time) and then proceeded to tell me how their wife miscarried at exactly that same time and they kept the fetus in a jar in their fridge for awhile. For the whole story, click here.
5. A conversation I had at the store today with a very well-meaning woman went as follows: Her: "When are you due?" Me: "Three weeks. Hopefully the little guy comes on time or even a little bit early!" Her (in a teaching me a lesson kind of tone): "Well, the important thing is that the baby is healthy--even if that means you have to come late." Here's why this conversation bugged me: of course I don't want to put the health of my baby in jeopardy by having the baby early! I would never put my own short-term, selfish wants before the well-being of my child! Why would a total stranger feel that it is their place to give me such unwarranted advice? Especially when it is unnecessary. I happen to know that I am already dilated to a 3 and 50% effaced and that my doctor said everything looks a-ok and if the baby were to come tomorrow, he'd be cool with it and the baby would be fine.
6. My favorite response of all proves that sometimes actions speak louder than words. Peter has become increasingly concerned by the state of my belly button. It's funny because, as I mentioned, I gained a lot more weight last time, but my belly button didn't pop out as much as it has this time. It kind of flattened out last time. But this time, it is definitely protruding. I'm at the point where (especially when I'm wearing pajamas and sitting on the couch) my shirt will sometimes roll up before I realize it and my belly will be bared. If Peter catches this happening, he will give my belly a disgusted look and pull my shirt back down. But my all-time favorite response? Today, Peter found a box of band-aids that had somehow fallen under our bed. He took out a band-aid, insisted that I open it, and then directed me to put it over my belly button. When he wasn't looking, I pulled it off, but later, he wanted to make sure that the band-aid was still in place. When he discovered it wasn't, he insisted that I put another band-aid over my belly button. I only just realized that the band-aid is still covering my offending belly button. It looks even sillier because the box of band-aids that Peter found are specifically for knuckles and finger-tips. So, it kind of looks like an "X" marking the spot! What a cute, silly guy I have! Also, since I've been pregnant before, I have the consolation of knowing that my belly button and stomach will go back to normal (after a lot of exercise, but nonetheless, my former belly button glory will be regained!).