in which i start to get a little more loony
it's started. you know, where everyone - family, friends, co-workers, people you see all the time but have never, ever spoken a word to you ever, complete strangers on the street - asks you how much longer.
"not soon enough," i sometimes say, with a half-chuckle, before looking away, when i don't want to get into it.
"three to six weeks," i say other times, which confuses the heck out of people, but i save that one for people worth making the effort to confuse.
if it's someone about whom i give a damn, i give the short version of the long story: "it depends on which of my doctors you talk to..."
i hate that question. everyone asks it, like they're the first person who wondered. and you know why they ask it, don't you: because i am gigantic. i am the whale who walked on land. no one can imagine anyone would be this big and not be on the verge of exploding. i guess people want to be prepared, so they can jump behind a copier and avoid getting hit with blood and birth matter when i do explode.
the thing is: besides it hurting my feelings a little that people are awed by my awesome size, it pains me when people ask because i don't know but i really want to know, far more than any of those nosy nellies. my mental health is a bit more closely tied to the answer to the question than it is for most of the rest of the population. being asked three times an hour how much longer i have is like rubbing a wound with sandpaper; it just reinforces the uncertainty of it all, makes the anxiety more and more raw. it makes it feel like it's taking even longer than it really is.
i wish i could wear the end-of-my-rope ticker on my person. someone should rig up a hat that could flash the ticker all the time. and they should pay me 10% of their profits for thinking of it.
"not soon enough," i sometimes say, with a half-chuckle, before looking away, when i don't want to get into it.
"three to six weeks," i say other times, which confuses the heck out of people, but i save that one for people worth making the effort to confuse.
if it's someone about whom i give a damn, i give the short version of the long story: "it depends on which of my doctors you talk to..."
i hate that question. everyone asks it, like they're the first person who wondered. and you know why they ask it, don't you: because i am gigantic. i am the whale who walked on land. no one can imagine anyone would be this big and not be on the verge of exploding. i guess people want to be prepared, so they can jump behind a copier and avoid getting hit with blood and birth matter when i do explode.
the thing is: besides it hurting my feelings a little that people are awed by my awesome size, it pains me when people ask because i don't know but i really want to know, far more than any of those nosy nellies. my mental health is a bit more closely tied to the answer to the question than it is for most of the rest of the population. being asked three times an hour how much longer i have is like rubbing a wound with sandpaper; it just reinforces the uncertainty of it all, makes the anxiety more and more raw. it makes it feel like it's taking even longer than it really is.
i wish i could wear the end-of-my-rope ticker on my person. someone should rig up a hat that could flash the ticker all the time. and they should pay me 10% of their profits for thinking of it.
posted by laura at 10:23 PM
7 Comments:
oh God Laura, I remeber how annoying the 'how much long' and 'look how huge you are' comments really stung and pissed me off too. Look on the bright side, you will only be hearing those comments for another 3 to 6 weeks more.
I still standby the ole, "How long til what? What are you talking about?"
"Aren't you expecting?"
"Expecting what?"
"Aren't you pregnant?"
(tearfully)"No!"
Yeah, nothing like being reminded how big you look on a daily basis--as if we don't own mirrors or feel the aches and pains of our size!
When will the two doctors conference? Can you discuss with your OB what the peri said about 36 weeks or so? Will he be receptive to you needing something more definitive (and earlier than 39 weeks!)?
Just wait till the phone calls start! "What, you're STILL there??? You mean you haven't had that baby yet??"
I like Lyss's idea. Too funny.
Yes, i found this extraordinarily irritating at the end with Chloe. As if i wasn't counting off the days enough already, as i did my limp/waddle around town? Sheesh i hate people, can't they just shut up?
Yeah, when are the docs gonna conference??
People are dumb. I mean, I guess the "when are you due" questions are inevitable, but people should know how to control their reactions so as not to insult someone. It's just common sense and courtesy.
BTW, I'm getting those sort of questions/responses, too, and I've got 11 weeks to go.
Here's something... there's a gal here at work, known as fairly high strung, anyhow a few days ago, a customer was giving her hell on a delayed flight, demanding to know what time he would board his flight. He kept asking and she kept giving him the same answer. He asked again. She was getting furious. When he again asked her, no less than 10 minutes later, she took out her pen, ripped a piece of paper, wrote 1030pm on the paper, grabbed a stappler and stappled her announcement to his shirt!
Holy crap - that has to be one of the naughtiest things that someone has done to a customer and boy, do I want to shake her hand.
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