I have never felt more like a circus act, or should I say a sideshow, than during the last two months of pregnancy. Especially recently, people's comments about my physical appearance have snowballed out of control. I can't walk down the street, check out at a store, or even interact with people I know without someone commenting on how I look these days. It's like they've never seen a pregnant person before and I am a freak of nature. I don't recall ever making comments like what's been said to me recently to other pregnant people, especially strangers, and it baffles me that so many people lack filters.
Many people fall all over themselves to tell me their opinion about whether they think I'm having a boy or a girl, even after I tell them I'm not interested in hearing their opinion. (Yes, I've grown bold and said that multiple times... it doesn't seem to deter people from telling me anyway.) What kills me though is how adamant most people are about it... like they really know, which of course they don't. And the count is about 50/50 thus far. For each person who insists we're having a boy, there's another person who is equally as adamant that the baby is a girl.
The clerks ringing up my purchases at stores have transitioned from asking, "When is the baby due?" to "How many days left?" Last week, one of my darling students told me I looked like I was about to burst. The winning comment of the week occurred this past Saturday as Brad and I walked home from lunch at a newish place in our neighborhood. An old woman sat in her wheelchair on the sidewalk in front of the building where she lived. Brad and I strolled by, and we both heard her say, "Looking fat today..." and then she hollered after us, "When's the baby coming?"
We ignored her.
And for the record, old woman, my chin and chest are fuller than normal and my ankles are slightly swollen (only as of week 38, but I'm not sporting cankles, yet). Other than those expansions, I am all belly--a round, firm, and compact one at that.