Said one of the cute young things in my agency this morning, "Wow! You're getting really close, huh?" And one of the 20-something guys a few days earlier, "You're just about ready to pop!"
Um, no. I've got three months to go. Thanks anyway.
It seems that my pregnant belly is a popular conversation starter at the office. I don't mind, honestly. But I prefer that comments given with a little more grace and style.
Other women--particularly other moms--will ask how I'm feeling and dig for names (we're not sharing). They'll ask if Z knows there's a baby coming and is she excited? If I've got a particularly cute outfit on, someone will likely notice. And heck, I'll admit I dress for my girlfriends--my husband couldn't care less.
And then there's this tattooed creative director who's raising two kids on his own. He never fails to say I'm looking wonderful/great/amazing. He never complimented me before I sprouted a full-frontal basketball, but I wouldn't have expected him to. In fact, under normal circumstances it would probably be weird, but now that I'm in a family way, his kind words never fail to give me a lift--and a touch of that pregnancy glow.
