My body is starting to look just like a bowling pin, which I think is charming especially because I bowl about a 60. It’s a really nice conversation starter. I could either be a pregnant lady or some one who just loves beer and nachos. Both would be accurate. Sometimes I hang out in the liquor store and try and make eye contact with people to try and provoke them into saying something about me shopping for booze and being pregnant. No one has come close to acting judgmental yet, which reinforces my fear that I just look over-fed.
I’ve been trying to convince my dog to switch places with me. I’d have to have some clothes altered for the extra legs, but I think she’d be a comparable worker, driver, cook, and housekeeper. She doesn’t think I’d be able to fulfill her duties of napping and sniffing gross things and trying to eat chicken bones off the sidewalk. So it’s a negation in progress.
We’re moving out of this apartment at the end of August, so I’ve started to get really frantic about spying on the neighbors across the street. I’m just short of buying binoculars, and that’s only because I’m scared I’ll see some one watching me try and spy on them with my binoculars. I do press my face to the windows and cup my hands around my eyes to redirect the light. I would probably look pretty insane if someone saw me doing that. I mean, I’m sure the people who have seen me doing that think I’m insane.
You dont know me; I used to work with Tom G., and I’ve been reading your blog for about a year. I just think you are great. I think that many people who have lived through all kinds of tragedy and terror turn out to be some of the most beautiful, smart and compassionate people. With humor and honesty, it seems like you’ve turned your tragedy into something beautiful for all of us who read your blog to share with you. Thank you for that.
Love seeing your humour peek through, Heather. My words don’t always hit the mark, but I just wanted to say it’s okay to ‘complain’ about the difficult parts of being pregnant. Sometimes after losing a baby we are expected to just be thrilled to be pregnant again and somehow collect our shattered faith that all will be well this time. I, at least, convinced myself I should just be glad that I was pregnant, and often I was, but I was scared with every twinge, worrying about what I was doing and what I wasn’t. I haven’t been through loss the same way you have, but I just want you to know that my heart aches for yours to have the happiest of happy outcomes.
Thank you Marilyn!