Is she, or isn't she?
For a fairly long time, we wanted to keep the exciting news to ourselves. But once we finally did tell, I was ready to look pregnant.
Which was right around the time I looked - and felt - fat. Ugh. Werner assured me more than once that I really did look pregnant, but of course he knew. I needed validation from strangers.
While we were in Montréal, I visited a maternity store. I was, oh, a bit over 19 weeks by then. Just the night before, we were congratulated by someone we know but who said she hadn't heard that we were expecting. I was finally feeling like maybe - just maybe - I was showing. But no, apparently. Into this maternity shop I went. I explained to the clerk that I had one pair of maternity pants that were so comfortable that I wanted to get a second pair in a different colour. Since the Vancouver stores were sold out, I thought I'd check in Montréal. She asked me, "Who are you shopping for?" Um, me. Then, a few minutes later, she asked me, "Are you still pregnant?" I almost couldn't answer, so gobsmacked was I. Why on earth would I be shopping in a maternity store if I wasn't pregnant?? If I had lost my baby, what masochistic streak could possibly be strong enough to drag me back into a mat shop? If I was postpartum, wouldn't I be eager to wear real clothes again? (After all, maternity clothes are not a pleasant experience.) And if I had already given birth, where had I left my baby?
Of all the places where the practice of, "If you don't already know if a woman is pregnant, don't ask", would be assumed, I'd have thought it would be a maternity shop. Even now, weeks later, I'm still somewhat stunned by the whole experience.
Needless to say, I spent the rest of the day feeling fat rather than pregnant.
(Thanks to my cousin in Montréal for commenting on how pregnant I looked when I saw her later that afternoon!)
Two weeks later, to the day, I finally got the validation-from-a-stranger I craved. Waiting for Werner at our bank, the receptionist congratulated me. Hooray, I must finally look pregnant!!
On another note, we hadn't had an opportunity to tell any of our neighbours. It wasn't because we hadn't wanted to tell them, the chance just hadn't come up. Finally, at around 23 weeks, I bumped into our neighbour from two doors down. I said, "It has been so long since I've seen you, I haven't even had a chance to tell you our news!!" She replied that, just the evening before, our immediate neighbours had asked her if she knew whether or not we were expecting.
I never imagined we'd be fodder for the neighbourhood rumour mill - but I have to admit I'm strangely flattered!
Which was right around the time I looked - and felt - fat. Ugh. Werner assured me more than once that I really did look pregnant, but of course he knew. I needed validation from strangers.
While we were in Montréal, I visited a maternity store. I was, oh, a bit over 19 weeks by then. Just the night before, we were congratulated by someone we know but who said she hadn't heard that we were expecting. I was finally feeling like maybe - just maybe - I was showing. But no, apparently. Into this maternity shop I went. I explained to the clerk that I had one pair of maternity pants that were so comfortable that I wanted to get a second pair in a different colour. Since the Vancouver stores were sold out, I thought I'd check in Montréal. She asked me, "Who are you shopping for?" Um, me. Then, a few minutes later, she asked me, "Are you still pregnant?" I almost couldn't answer, so gobsmacked was I. Why on earth would I be shopping in a maternity store if I wasn't pregnant?? If I had lost my baby, what masochistic streak could possibly be strong enough to drag me back into a mat shop? If I was postpartum, wouldn't I be eager to wear real clothes again? (After all, maternity clothes are not a pleasant experience.) And if I had already given birth, where had I left my baby?
Of all the places where the practice of, "If you don't already know if a woman is pregnant, don't ask", would be assumed, I'd have thought it would be a maternity shop. Even now, weeks later, I'm still somewhat stunned by the whole experience.
Needless to say, I spent the rest of the day feeling fat rather than pregnant.
(Thanks to my cousin in Montréal for commenting on how pregnant I looked when I saw her later that afternoon!)
Two weeks later, to the day, I finally got the validation-from-a-stranger I craved. Waiting for Werner at our bank, the receptionist congratulated me. Hooray, I must finally look pregnant!!
On another note, we hadn't had an opportunity to tell any of our neighbours. It wasn't because we hadn't wanted to tell them, the chance just hadn't come up. Finally, at around 23 weeks, I bumped into our neighbour from two doors down. I said, "It has been so long since I've seen you, I haven't even had a chance to tell you our news!!" She replied that, just the evening before, our immediate neighbours had asked her if she knew whether or not we were expecting.
I never imagined we'd be fodder for the neighbourhood rumour mill - but I have to admit I'm strangely flattered!
posted by Melanie A at 11:26 a.m.
2 Comments:
Oh my good Lord. I can't believe the clueless clerk comment in Montreal. That is insane - I'm reeling.
My mom came to visit five days after Alec was born. We went out several times, often with her carrying the baby, while I coddled Joffre the Big Brother. Twice, no less, I had to put up with (looking at my mom), "oh, what a sweet baby! How old is he?" "One week!" "Wow!" (looking at me) "And you're having a baby too! When are you due?"
Um, I'm the lady who gave birth a week ago, thank you very much.
Oh, Melania! Your Mom is indeed very youthful, so this could have been a compliment to her. But how awful for you!
I know it isn't going to help any that I'll still be in mat clothes for heaven knows how long after the babe is born... Not that I expect to leave the house all that quickly!
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