While pregnant with Ellie, each time I ventured out of my bag of Cheetos to face the real world I was accosted with the same sequence of questions from every single person who came within a 10-foot radius of The Belly:#1. When are you due?
Upon responding, the laughter and pointing ensued, and then
#2. WHEN? Oh, sweet Jesus! Are you sure there’s only one in there?
To which I would usually respond “I hope you get eaten by a doberman.”
However, once the sequence of questions has begun, a tornado made of fire balls and snake fangs could be barreling toward the question asker and their feet will remain firmly planted on the floor until they have successfully satisfied their need to know every last detail about my pregnancy.
#3. Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl?
#4. Do you have names picked out?
#5. Is this your first?
Obviously when Ellie and I are out partying (buying milk at Shop and Save) it is clear that this is not my first rodeo. However, this pregnancy I have answered the same questions, over and over, with the exception of #5. Not one person has asked me about #5, and until recently I could not figure out why.
Then, exhibit A – the photo above – was taken.
You could plant corn in those valleys from my eye to my mouth, and spend a nice little summer in Europe using the luggage under my eyes to pack all your clothing and golf clubs.
That is not the face of a girl who sleeps. And yes, Ellie has been sleeping 13 hours/night since week 4 (please don’t hate me) but the other night I was awakened from a Benadryl-induced coma at 3am because she made a funny sound in her sleep. Two rooms over.
Obviously sleeping with one ear open has taken its toll on my face.
And the second picture – those hips might as well come with their own set of orange cones and a flashing neon sign that says “Babies welcome – no cover on Tuesdays.”
Yes, I’ve officially crossed over to The Other Side. I officially look like a Mom.