Friday, January 18, 2013


I was just walking back to my desk after filling my water.  Minding my own business.  Not bothering or interrupting anyone.  Then I hear it, and I know it's coming.

"Good grief Jaime!"

I stopped in my tracks.  Please don't say it, just don't say it.

"When are you due?"

I shouldn't answer.  I should make some sarcastic remark and move right by, too busy to give her my time.  In my mind that's what I do.

"June," I reply.

"Goodness are you sure? Because you're huge."

"Yeah, well, I guess so.  But it's definitely June," and with that I walk away listening to her go on...

"Man, she is just so big...all out in front, I can't believe it's not twins...or triplets even..."

And then laughter, because obviously it is just freaking hilarious and absolutely appropriate to talk about some one's size - pregnant or not.

I sit down at my desk and I feel that burning in my eyes.  I will not cry, I will not let this stupid, bitch, woman push me over the edge. 

I should walk back to the elevator bay and give her a piece of my mind.  Has she ever even seen a woman pregnant with triplets?  Does she even realize how much I don't look like I'm carrying triplets?  Can she possibly understand how rude and unkind her remarks are?  Could it possibly cross her mind that I know what I look like?  That I look in the mirror every single day.  That I always show quickly and for goodness sakes this is BABY NUMBER 3!!!!

But suddenly, I am 12 again, back in the middle school hallway and the boys are calling me 2 x 4 and I am fragile and feeling broken.  So the tears start to push over the edge and I quickly wipe them away. 

I have always been sensitive.  Somewhere between my college years and now, I have learned to put that away.  Try and not let things get to me.  I always feel so awkward and embarrassed when I let those sensitivities show.  But this pregnancy has been rough on me emotionally.  I cried during the movie "Ted."  Last night I cried at the end of "The New Normal."  I've been taking things very personally.  Feeling like I'm being attacked.  My head knows that it's silly, but my heart feels betrayed.  A lot lately, I feel like I'm getting punched in the gut and I have no way to protect myself. 

I know this is all the pregnancy hormones.  I know I don't always feel this way.  But lately I have definitely been feeling like I can't control the emotions.  I can't wrap them up and put them in the closet and forget they're there.  I can't roll with the punches.  It's especially hard when the punch comes from thin air and I'm not expecting it.

So to the woman at the elevator, who I work with and see every single day, who has now mentioned how huge I am three times, who pretends to be so nice and loving and friendly, who preaches about God and being saved, who talks about everyone behind their backs, who manipulates and lies...I am sitting at my desk and flipping you the bird.  Because I know what you really are and even though the hormones have me a bit confused and tangled up right now, you won't break me.  I won't be that little girl again because of you.
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