"Are You Expecting?"

Even if you've come to some kind of peace about the fact that you look like you're four months pregnant (with your fourth child) when you're not, it sure doesn't take much to remind you that, if given a choice, you'd rather not appear that way.  I'm speaking from personal experience, of course.

Sometimes what snaps me out of my "some kind of peace" is seeing a brand new mom toting her three week old infant around looking as if she's never been pregnant.  Sometimes it's checking out my profile in the bathroom mirror.  Sometimes, someone actually asks me if I'm expecting-you know, they ask it very sheepishly as if they know there is a chance that you're not.  Just a little piece of advice- if there is even a hint of doubt in your being, please don't ask.

But, sometimes, just sometimes, this happens... and instead of feeling sorry for myself, all I can do is shake my head in disbelief...

It was the weekend of Jamey's graduation and we decided it would be fun to order make-your-own bagel sandwich trays from our local bagel shop for lunch for everyone.  I told them I would pick everything up between noon and 1pm.  I arrived there at 1pm only to discover that they hadn't even begun putting my order together.  I stood there trying hard to be patient while I envisioned eight adults and nine children back at my house- all waiting for lunch.  Of course the bagel shop employees were very apologetic and nice about it all.  I wasn't upset with them as much as I was about having to stand there while I wanted to feed our company at home.

Finally, finally my trays were ready and I shuttled them out to the car.  With everything loaded I was about to start the engine when a man came up to my driver's side window.  My window was already rolled down about an inch, but this stranger said, "Roll down your window".  Um....what?  I rolled the window down another half inch and locked the door.  And, get this...he asks me, "Are you expecting?"

I stare at him, my fight or flight instinct turning to incredulous-ness. "No," I say.  Then, this man, who was probably slightly younger than me wearing shorts and a t-shirt and holding a cup of coffee, starts bumbling around saying, "Oh, I'm so sorry.  I hate when this happens.  Sometimes it's just so hard to tell.  The reason I asked (now get this!) is that I like giving money to pregnant women."  And he was saying this all as if he felt sorry for me.

At this point my eyes had to have been as big as saucers.  I couldn't believe that instead of finally getting this food home, I was sitting here having this discussion.  I really couldn't tell if this guy was sincere or not, so to humor him (and maybe even in an attempt to make this whole conversation seem more normal and not the weirdest one I've ever had) I told him, "I've had children and I know what I have and I'm okay with it."  He then says, "Really?" and looks surprised.  He continues, "That's good.  I have some weight I could lose, too" and he grabs his gut and shakes it.  Seriously?!

It was at this point that I finally came completely to my senses and told him I had to go and drove away.  I didn't even tell Jamey about it until that evening when most of our company had left.  I think I was repressing the whole odd experience.

But what I've come to believe (because anything else kind of scares me) is that this guy doesn't have much experience talking with women (I'm very perceptive- can you tell?) and that seeing those trays of meat I was carrying sent him into a delirium that caused nonsense to spill out of his mouth.

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As much as interactions like this and trying to find clothes that fit and look flattering can be a pain in the rear, I have this belly because I grew three children in there.  God gave me this body and it's gotten me through some pretty incredible things in my life.  Twinges of wishing it were different sometimes won't completely go away,  I imagine, but the trick, for me, is not to let myself wallow.  When those thoughts find their way to the surface, they need to be called out for what they are- pointless, destructive and ungrateful.

We need to take care of our bodies, not loathe them.  They have to carry us around for a good long while yet (Lord willing).