Don't Look at Me

Entering these last few weeks of pregnancy, it's getting harder and harder for me to get around. My husband always says, "You're pregnant, not handicapped.", but the problem with that is, I certainly feel handicapped most of the time. I am so uncomfortable most of the time, and my body does not respond to my mental commands as it should.

Remember that phrase: "I've fallen and I can't get up!"? Well, that's how I feel if ever I need to get close to the floor to pick something up, or wipe something off the floor. My mind is telling my body to GET UP!, but my body looks like I'm playing a game of Twister as I slowly contort and writhe around, just trying to get my footing.

The worst thing about all this is the way people look and stare as I'm walking around the store, or picking up my son from preschool.

All I have to say to you gawkers is, look:

I realize that I'm breathing heavy.

I realize that I'm waddling.

I realize that I'm walking very slow.

I realize that I'm probably in your way.

I get it, you wish I would just move out of the way. And believe me, I wish I could quickly do that too. Problem is, I can't.

If I move faster, I can't breathe.

If I move faster, I'll get sharp pains in my lower abdomen.

If I move faster, I'm afraid I'll trip and fall, causing catastrophic consequences.

This will be my last pregnancy. As uncomfortable as I am, I wish it wouldn't be ending so soon. In a way, I wish I could be uncomfortable for a little while longer. This is it for me.

So as you see me pass you by, please withhold the snickering, the whispers, and the looks of pity. Please, stop looking at me like that. It is, after all, my last time. It'll be over before you, or I, know it.