"So, when are you due?" a coworker asked me. I get that question a lot now that the baby bump is large and in charge, so I was unfazed. "Just a few more weeks to go," I said with a smile. Most people say such nice or encouraging things once I answer that I was floored by her response. "I figured," she replied matter-of-factly. "I was watching you walk by my desk and thought, 'she's starting to waddle.'"
At a loss for what to say, I gave a fake laugh and went about my business. I do not believe there was any malice behind the comment, but it still felt like a criticism. I'm doing my best to be stylish and energetic, despite mounting fatigue and logistical difficulty with basic actions like bending over! I thought. Now I've got to worry about how I walk, too? I tried carefully not to "waddle" through the office despite my refusal to stop wearing heels and the 30+ extra pounds of weight strapped to my belly. And tearfully recounted the exchange to my husband when I got home.
I am a sensitive person, and small comments sting much more than I want them to. Add pregnancy hormones to the mix - and the universal self-consciousness that comes with the third trimester - and I was a blubbering mess. "Why do people think they can just say anything to a pregnant woman about her appearance?" I asked Brian. He hugged me, but struggled to find an answer that makes sense (since there really isn't one) and the tears kept falling. That is, until Ruby piped up. "Be happy, Mommy!" Ruby said in her chipper little voice. I wrapped her in my arms and tried to focus on helping her trace my hand. "Draw a piggie!" she commanded. At that moment, I realized, Who cares what some coworker says? I've got the best family - and reason to waddle - that I can imagine. I proceeded to draw the simple pig doodle I perfected in high school, much to Ruby's delight.
The next day, I walked proudly around the office in leather joggers and a tank top, not caring if I looked awkward. "When's the big day?" another coworker asked in the break room. "A couple more weeks," I replied, ready for any response. "Wow! You look great!" she said kindly, sounding genuine. "Thanks!" I smiled. Because you know what? I do.
To all you other pregnant ladies out there, whether you walk, waddle, crawl, or hop, you look great, too. You're carrying another life - that, in and of itself, is beautiful.
|Dress: Forever 21; Backpack & necklace: Thrifted; Leggings: Bronx Diba Shoe Outlet|
|These pics were taken a month ago, so the belly is way bigger now.|
|I just love the pineapple print!|
|Please excuse my horrible pedicure. LOL These shoes are called ITALIAN LOVE by Diba True.|