Monday, September 27, 2010

The Good, The Bad, The Ugly

I have both good things to share and a bone to pick. I will start with the good things. Gretel/Seven is definitely moving around in there. I can't feel anything when I put my hand on my belly, but I can feel him/her flipping around a little. It feels like a lot of flutters right in the middle, and it's almost like she tickles my side at times. It's unreal..surreal, actually. I keep trying to figure out if there is anything that will make her move around more, but it seems like she just moves when she feels like it. Hopefully there will be more of it and I can figure out a pattern...you know, like when she wants me to quit singing or she doesn't like the way I'm laying. We shall see:)

We find out on Wednesday if it is indeed a she, or if my habits need to change. My appointment is at 7:45 a.m. It was the first one they had. I think it's probably a he, despite the pronouns that I use, but I have to wait about 36 more hours to know for sure.

Now, on to my bone. Why, WHY do people think that a round belly is an invitation to grope you? Don't get me wrong. I'm totally fine with people touching me when they either warn me or even ask. As long as I know you're going to be touching me, I'm all for it. But don't think that just because I'm pregnant that you can cop a feel whenever you want. What would you do if I just started rubbing all up on you? In the last 72 hours, I've had three people (one of which I had never met and whose name I still don't know) rub my stomach. One of them actually grabbed it with two hands and shook it.  I'm sorry...can I help you? Skittles aren't going to fall out of there and they set the big, blue genie free, so you can stop touching me now.

And here's another one for you...why do men think they know more about being pregnant than I do? Because their wives had babies? Sorry...not the same thing. I actually had one man, upon seeing that I was drinking water, say to me, "Good girl." WHAT? I've also been asked if I know how much protein I'm supposed to have; how much protein am I getting; how am I getting that protein; what kind of exercise have you been doing; you can't have too many Cokes; etc. Again, don't get me wrong. I'm incredibly grateful to have people care about me and the kiddo. But not all of these people actually know me, and I feel like I'm being tested. The ones I do know, I don't mind so much. They only ask because they either care or are interested, even though I still feel like I'm taking the "Are You a Good Mother?" quiz. The worst part is that I will actually lie to them. If I know I haven't eaten enough protein that day, I lie. How pathetic is that?  Whatever. When you grow a human being in your non-uterus and then push a kid out of your willy, then we'll talk.

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