Today marks my 29th week of pregnancy with baby number four....only 11 more to go! I'm thinking it will go by fast due to the busyness of the holidays. I'll be 37 weeks at Christmas! Yikes!
So far this pregnancy has been great, other than the fact I've gained weight like crazy! I've gained #*&! pounds already. What? You couldn't see the numbers? Hmm....That's weird!
I went for my checkup last week and I am already measuring a week ahead. I'm guessing that means another eight pound baby! So far we've had 8 lbs. 10 oz. (Chloe), 8 lbs. 11 oz. (Jacob), and 8 lbs. 12 oz. (Luke). I'm curious to see if we have 8'9 or 8'13 this time.
Last week, a friend of mine told me about her conversation with her son's barber, who also happens to be a member of the church where my father pastors. Somehow they were talking about pregnant women when he made the comment that, "The preacher's daughter is the biggest pregnant lady I've ever seen. She gets way out there."
Yep. That would be me. Way out there.
It's no secret....I carry babies like I've got a beach ball under my shirt. I've had to buy XL shirts at the end of every pregnancy because all my other shirts were too short due to my protruding belly. Contrary to popular opinion, preggo bellies should NOT be shown! Not that bellies should be shown in general, but definitely not ones with babies in them.
Anyway, back to the point.
If I had a quarter for every time I've heard, "How many you got in there?" "Are you sure you're not having twins?" "You'll never make it to your due date. Your huge!" "You look like you're going to pop!" And so on and so forth. I'm already getting these types of comments and I've got two months plus to go!
While these comments don't exactly make me laugh, (Honestly...the thing people say to pregnant women! It's a wonder I didn't knock some of them in the head with my purse!) I've had a couple of incidents that were unforgettable.
Like the time I had to play the invitational hymn for church. The sermon had been very moving but was coming to a close. My dad had asked the musicians to come to the instruments so I waddled up to the piano. It was quiet and somber as people were soul-searching. I sat down on the piano bench and what should happen? Well, let's just say my depth perception was off somewhat and my largely pregnant belly hit the piano keys causing this awful sound. Snickers are heard throughout the audience. My dad turns to look at me with a half grin on his face like "What's going on?" I could have crawled under the piano; I was mortified!
And then there was the time I hit my dad in the back of the head with my belly while trying to get out of the pew to go sing in the choir. His head went flying forward, almost messing up his hair. And if you know my dad, his hair is his trademark. He turned around, while smoothing down his hair, and said, "Hey, watch that thing!"
However, that wasn't nearly as embarrassing as the time I hit a visiting preacher in the back of the head while trying to get out of the pew. It's one thing to hit your dad with your stomach, another thing to hit a semi-stranger. And a preacher, at that.
Then there was the time I got stuck on the subway in Washington, D.C. I was six months pregnant with Luke when Austin and I took a trip to the capitol. He had gotten on the subway and I was following suit except the doors were closing on me. Then the buzzer went off and the automated voice asked to please clear the doorway. Austin then decided we were on the wrong train, so he jumped back off. I swung around only to have the doors start to close on me again, catching my stomach, which caused the buzzer to go off, which caused the automated voice to come on again. People were staring. Austin was laughing hysterically. Fun times.
I'm curious to see what the next couple of months hold for me in the way of memorable stories. The comments and stares I can't do much about. Just grin and bear it, I suppose.
But you can bet your life I'll fake contractions or my water breaking or something major before I attempt to play another invitational hymn!