A couple of days ago, a stranger in a lift looked at me and said “oh, you’re pregnant! Gosh it’s sitting really high!” My response: a shy awkward smile as I wondered how this random stranger had enough confidence to say this to me. Later I said to K, what if I wasn’t pregnant and just had a big belly? K responded with…you look very pregnant!
At 23.5 weeks I do look very pregnant. I have a very large basketball tummy and can’t image what it will look like when I’m 9 months pregnant. I’m a little person, with little boy hips and a very short torso. My bub has nowhere to go but out and up, sitting just under my ribs. In fact, I reckon in a few weeks I won’t need a bra to hold my boobs up, my tummy will do the job just as well.
This random stranger comment did make me thing of all the random comments people say to people who are pregnant. I’m no stranger to receiving random comments from strangers in general. I was once walking down King street in Newtown, when some random lady came up to me and told me I was a very cute little boy! I was going through a very tomboy strange, with army cargo pants and very short hair. Before I could respond, she had gone and I was left wondering if this random comment was a compliment or not.
I love to hear what random comments you’ve received from strangers, so please share!
Tomorrow is my birthday, a day I’ve never really enjoyed celebrating. I’m not entirely sure as to why, but gather it’s something to do with being adopted and not ever feeling like I deserve to celebrate the day I was introduced to this world after a 14 year old’s mistake. I tend to be on edge a bit around my birthday. I bit emotional to say the least. Today, I had an appointment with my therapist and when I came out, I had a message from my mum saying call as something bad had happened. Of course as soon as I hear those words I think the worst. It turns out my Nana, who I just adore, has had a minor stroke. She’s ok, but it was enough to push me over the edge. On top of that, on the way home an idiot in a car not worthy of the streets, decided to illegally under-take me then get upset with me because I was reluctant to let him in. He stopped in the middle of the tunnel on-ramp, with 100′s of cars banked up behind me, just to piss me off. I freaked, thinking he was about to get out of the car and start yelling abuse at me. It didn’t take long, for him to move again after all the cars behind me started honking their horns in disgust at him. So by now, my emotions are at breaking point. I manage to make the hour long journey home just in time to test my blood glucose levels, and wholly shit, they were way off the charts! It turns out birthdays, therapist appointments and road rage incidents are not good for diabetes! And damn those pregnancy hormones for making it so easy to lose the plot!