Imagine, ladies, for just a moment, the worst thing that anyone could ask you. Something so humiliating, you wonder how you could ever recover. The one thing we (especially woman-to woman) should know better than to ever ask. That's right. I'm talking about the pregnancy question. And it happened to me the other day. I was at work, in my normal position on a step stool behind the counter where I prep food. A woman came in and ordered a sandwich. She was very pleasant and we chatted away about her family. She told me she had a daughter and asked if I had any kids. But before I could answer, she stood on her tip toes and leaned to the side, staring strangely at my belly. I had a bad feeling I knew what was coming, but I was hoping I was wrong. Nope. This happy look came over her face, and she said, "Aw! You're expecting!" Horror, pure horror. To make matters even worse, when I said no, she asked me if I was sure. Um...yep! In shock, I expected her to blubber an apology and tell me how skinny I really looked and that she had cataracts. Instead, she went on about how intuitive she was, and that if I didn't already know I was pregnant, I shouldn't be surprised if I have a positive test within the week. As if!
Part of me really wanted to punch that woman in the face, but of course I'm way too nice to do such a thing. After anger, the embarrassment emotions set in, and all I wanted to do was cry. And no matter who told me what a ridiculous comment that was, I could not be comforted. I kept looking at my belly, wondering if she was in any way right, or if my sweet and well-meaning friends were being honest. What I saw (perhaps with slightly skewed vision) was a bit of both. I realized that I didn't actually look pregnant, like second or third trimester pregnant, but I did see that my belly has gotten out of hand. No longer am I sporting the "pooch". It's definitely grown into more of a small basset hound-type issue. I hate to be so hard on myself, especially after finally getting back to the gym and working harder on my diet. But come on. Someone tells you look pregnant and you try not being hard on yourself. It's pretty much a done deal.
I hate that I let that ignorant yet innocent comment get to me. I even wondered if the woman's so-called "intuition" was real. Maybe it wasn't a way to cover up any embarrassment over her mistake. Perhaps I could be pregnant. It would be miraculous, as my birth control has yet to fail me in over eighteen years. And I felt none of the classic symptoms of early pregnancy. But maybe, just maybe it could be true. After all, I'd seen at least thirty women give birth to babies in bath tubs or on their kitchen floors in the (not scary at all-ha!) program, "I Didn't Know I was Pregnant". The thought was messing with my head all week. I wanted it to be true, but I knew that was my heart talking and not my head. As I'm sure any of you who follow my blog know, I do want a baby, very badly. My hubby and I aren't ready yet, but it is something that we want. That desire-- coupled with the thought that a pregnancy would at least explain the growing belly-- finally won over my sensibility and I went to the drugstore for a pregnancy test. When it came up negative, I was relieved but also disappointed. No baby; and no excuses.
I moped around about it for the rest of the week, and honestly I'm still pretty bummed. But tomorrow is a new day and a new chance to start getting into the shape I'd hoped to be in before a baby is even a possibility. So it's either fight harder do better, or start wearing Spanx to work. The latter is definitely out of the question!
Published On: November 03, 2011