Please Touch ~ (Museum, not me)

Julia rides the "Pretty Horsey". Julia did NOT want to get off the pretty horsey. I was the pregnant woman lurching off of the carousel with the child screaming "pretty horsey come back! Pretty horsey come back!". Fun times.

The kids wait in line for their ride. We have been to the PTM about 20 times since becoming members, but the wonder of the carousel never ceases.

I'm trying to get the kids ready for the new baby. Julia has been elected to take over the food shopping as she seems to do it with a lot more joy and gusto than I do.

Luke will NOT be in charge of baby transportation after this display.

They both got up to speed quickly on basic infant care. Julia really, REALLY enjoys diapering the babe and pretending to nurse it, while Luke recognizes his biological need for bottles and adapts accordingly.

It has been a long week, and I don't really even have a good excuse for why. I CAN tell you what sent the week spiralling downhill emotionally, however. Monday and Tuesday mornings I did my normal 75 minute yoga class. I was feeling great, strong, capable, joyful, etc. On Tuesday morning as I came walking out of a wonderful class, happy and content within my little bubble of peace, I heard, shouted in my direction in front of about 30 people "Oh my GOSH! Are you sure you don't have TWWWWWWWWWWWINS in there? You are HUGE?!?!?!". I looked up. Sure enough, it was another one of my yoga teachers, speaking to me. Speaking AT me, I should say. Immediately I felt the almost physical presence of 60 eyes upon my belly. I cringed. She shouted out "HOW much longer do you have????". "A long time yet, I replied! Due in May!". "OH MY GOD! What is going to happen by then!!?!?!" she shouted. I wanted to reply that I would likely just explode and shoot a fetus out of my giant freakish belly in a bloody mess. Or that perhaps the giant evil baby would just gnaw its own way out. Instead I told her "The same thing is going to happen to me that happens to most pregnant women, Janice. I will continue to get bigger and bigger, as the baby grows, God willing, and then one day I will give birth to it".

This is my third pregnancy. I'm a little girl who grows healthy sized babies. Yeah! I'm "huge". And while I know in my heart that most people do not say things like that with cruel intent, and that commenting on the size or shape or gravitational pull of my body is generally just something done to show a modicum of interest or attention...........can I just put a written plea out to the universe? Can I just ask, once, that people THINK before they speak to a pregnant woman? I used to joke that the first thing that any care provider should do for one of her pregnant clients is to hand out earplugs at the first prenatal visit. Between the "You guys are CRAZY!" that I have heard no less than 60 times this pregnancy, to the "YOU ARE HUGE!" to the "WOW have you guys figured out how this is happening yet?".........I just feel like I'm getting maxed out on the witty and kind and deflective responses. This is just a warning to the universe, a disclaimer, that it is growing increasingly likely that the next stranger or acquaintance who has something to say regarding my size or our decision to bring children into the world on a time table of our choosing, just may have their rudeness be met with my rudeness.

As I stood there in the hallway of my gym, feeling like some spotlight was shining on me ~ No, not even on ME, just on my FREAKISH BELLY, I felt as though I was a deflated balloon (emotionally, clearly the FREAKISH BELLY did not deflate). I wanted to creep/crawl back inside the safety and security of my yoga class and start over, to get back to that strong and elated post yoga high I had felt just seconds earlier.

This is my third pregnancy. Though it was my easiest first trimester, it is turning into my hardest pregnancy. My back hurts. The heartburn has me actually throwing up on a semi regular basis now. Last night I discovered a small bald spot at the back of my head as a result of hormones (huge crying vanity freak out ensued, even though I know it is normal and its pretty much impossible to even see, I don't have to like it). I carry a 40 and 30-some pounder around much of the day. I lift kids into and out of the car. I am bound and determined to not let them suffer due to my pregnancy....I will not become one of those Moms who has the TV on all day, so we are staying active, even though it wears me the heck out. I spend more time than I would like to admit worrying about the fact that I am measuring three weeks ahead, and praying for a healthy little baby. I try not to complain about those things. I chose this pregnancy, and I chose this baby, and for all of the above woes, pregnancy is generally a joy and a miracle to me. Yet. Yet it is still hard. So ~ to the universe at large. Be kind. Think before you speak. Lie kindly to the pregnant. We are strong, yet vulnerable. Tell us we look great, even if it is the largest lie you have to tell all day long. Ask us how we are doing. And if you really want to help, just help. Don't talk about helping or ask how you can help, just dig in and go for it. You have no idea how you will brighten the day of a pregnant woman by doing so.