The hostess at the restaurant asked me when I was due. “End of June,” I told her. “And you?”
She looked at me blankly, and for a split second I thought: oh, no, I swore I would never ask that question again, and I just did, and she’s not, and I really put my foot in it. But it must have been the noise of the place that caused a time-delay, for then she smiled brightly and confirmed “In July!” It’s her first, and she’s very excited. I can understand. It’s not my first, and I’m still excited.
At the fabric store on Saturday, standing in the cutting line, I used my belly as a table to hold my bolts – backing for two quilts. The young woman behind me said, “Oh, you’re having a baby!”
Why, yes, I am.
She then showed me all the cute fabric she was buying for her mother to make something for her sister’s new baby. I do not want to see this cute fabric. I am trying very hard to get my own projects finished, and I keep finding new ones. A few weeks ago, I made a sling. The last few days, I’ve been helping Katie with her quilt and making water bottle carriers for my kids using scrap fabric. They don’t cost a dime – and they only take about 30-45 minutes to do. Each. Times 6 kids. Plus others that I make for friends.
Cute baby fabric? No, I’m not looking.
I went to the post office three times last week. The last time was Friday, late. There was a line like it was Christmas time. I have no idea why.
A woman ahead of me asked me when I was due. “End of June,” I said. “I have quite a way to go.” I just look huge, I thought to myself.
“You seem to have dropped a bit,” she said. Compared to? I wondered if my small town is even smaller than I thought…or maybe I’m being stalked. But I guess this is just pregnant-stranger small talk. I don’t drop until delivery day/hour/minute. My babies like to squish my lungs as long as possible.
“I’ll bet you can’t wait,” said another woman.
“Actually, I have a lot to do in the next month,” I said. “I hope the baby stays put for now.”
“Are you nesting?” asked the first woman.
“No, just getting ready to move.” I really had not intended to discuss my life at the post office. Oh, well, pregnant bellies attract much attention and discussion. At least they didn’t try to rub it.
Saved by the packages.