I guess it’s becoming quite clear to the world that I’m pregnant. No longer are people staring at my bump and wondering if I’ve developed a beer gut or if I’m expecting. I’m clearly pregnant. When I boarded the Muni bus to the CalTrain station on my commute home, there were no seats available. An old woman looked at me and said, “Do you want to sit down?” Wow. That’s a first. (Loving the prego perk.) I told her I was fine. “No, really, do you want to sit down?” she insisted. I complied and as soon as I walked over, an older business man sitting next to her shot out of his seat so I could take his.
The old lady looked me up and down, proceeding to tell me about the 23 grueling hours of labor she went through when she gave birth to her daughter some 50 years prior. She said it was so terrible, that she vowed never to go through with it again.
Wow. Thanks for the unsolicited not-so-helpful story.
I was warned that events like this would happen, so I was prepared to take her story and let it go in one ear and out the other. Fortunately I was spared from her rubbing my belly too. But I’m sure that day will come.