Pregnancy Diary 03/09/18 (29 weeks)

Lucie Apampa
Sep 3, 2018 · 2 min read

It’s been awhile and suffice it to say, I have expanded quite liberally. Strangely enough, I feel much more cumbersome when in the office than I do anywhere else. During the weekend, with friends at a beautiful wedding, I felt like a light and lucky pregnant woman, unencumbered by the waddling, sighing and strains of pregnancy, but take me back to the office and it all falls flat.

I’m holding onto the handrail to reach the top of the stairs, puffed out by the time I’ve rounded the corner and entered the toilet cubicle; avoiding people like the plague; googling the symptoms that seem only to manifest themselves when I’m at my desk. Essentially, work is bad for me. I’ve suspected this for a long time, but it has only been being ‘with child’ that has fully confirmed my suspicions. Unfortunately, this realisation has not been accompanied by a sudden influx of funds or even an awakening of my inner ‘mummy blogger’.

Nope, still not ready to pimp my kids (aka: unborn child, singular) out to avoid real work. Also, still shit at taking photos, so even if I didn’t judge mummy bloggers, I still couldn’t be one. Lightbulb idea, I still await your arrival.

At my 29-and-a-half weeks state I am batting off increasing numbers of unwarranted comments on the size of my bump. I’m guessing this happens to everyone. At the aforementioned wedding, a well-meaning and drunken older man told me I looked ready to pop (I’m not), a dinner lady at work today asked me jokingly if I was having twins.

For some reason, politeness overrides my instinct to tell these people to fuck off.

Now that I’ve been officially measured by the midwife, these comments no longer bother me, but pre-measuring each time a stranger guffawed over the size of my bump it was another nail in the mental coffin inside my head that saw me inevitably birthing a HUGE child. These people should fuck off. Why do they think it’s OK to comment on my size just because I’m pregnant? I wouldn’t go up to a fat person and say ‘woah, how many cakes have you had today? Looks like at least 16.’