About a week ago, I was headed out to the larger parking lot nearer to my class at the end of the day. I took the elevator from floor 7 to floor 1 with 2 students. Then, all of the sudden a hiccup around floor 5. The elevator stopped. I took a deep breath and said, “Uh-oh.” Then, it started again. We all started laughing in relief. I said, “That’s all we need a pregnant woman in the elevator, giving birth. Not good!” The two looked at each other, smiled, and looked at me, “We were thinking the same thing!” But then, the guy spoke up and said, “I would’ve taken care of you; I’m a 1st year med student.” I smiled. Inside, I was thinking, ‘hm, maybe not so reassuring…’ But it was nice of him to say, even though (and perhaps because) the immediate threat had passed ;)
This morning, I was in the elevator with a woman, her young daughter, and a baby in a carrier. I felt terrible and was a few minutes late for my appointment, but I could still manage to hold the door for them, for which she was grateful. She started chatting about how hard those last days of pregnancy are and asked me when I was due. I responded, with a can-you-believe-it expression, “Mid to late January, I’m 34 weeks.” Again, with the eyebrow raise, “Oh, then you have several weeks to go, yet.” “Yeah,” I said with a bit of a groan.
Tonight, at the cloth diapering discussion with the preggie yoga ladies, I re-met someone who I actually knew from work, H, who had been away on maternity leave. Turns out, she was from the town right next to where I grew up. We chatted a bit. I’ve been dragging, and it’s pretty obvious. So, we were talking, and I was saying that I had dropped. The yoga instructor started to chime in to the discussion. So, H offered me some of her evening primrose oil. Clueless, I asked what it was for. She explained that it can help with induction. I said, “Well, I better wait a bit on that.” The yoga instructor chimed in, “Yeah, I didn’t think you were that far along.” When I said I was 34 weeks, up went the eyebrows. I smiled. It’s a frequent mistake. The yoga instructor explained that it can be up to 6 weeks to delivery after dropping for 1st time mothers. She started asking if I was effaced, which I had no clue about. Then, she felt of my belly, and said, “Hm. Here, look in my eyes.” Up went the eyebrows, “Well, you do have that look, you know like you’re in a different place. It may not be too long…” Ah, the unique perspectives of the French. Who knows?
This morning, I was in the elevator with a woman, her young daughter, and a baby in a carrier. I felt terrible and was a few minutes late for my appointment, but I could still manage to hold the door for them, for which she was grateful. She started chatting about how hard those last days of pregnancy are and asked me when I was due. I responded, with a can-you-believe-it expression, “Mid to late January, I’m 34 weeks.” Again, with the eyebrow raise, “Oh, then you have several weeks to go, yet.” “Yeah,” I said with a bit of a groan.
Tonight, at the cloth diapering discussion with the preggie yoga ladies, I re-met someone who I actually knew from work, H, who had been away on maternity leave. Turns out, she was from the town right next to where I grew up. We chatted a bit. I’ve been dragging, and it’s pretty obvious. So, we were talking, and I was saying that I had dropped. The yoga instructor started to chime in to the discussion. So, H offered me some of her evening primrose oil. Clueless, I asked what it was for. She explained that it can help with induction. I said, “Well, I better wait a bit on that.” The yoga instructor chimed in, “Yeah, I didn’t think you were that far along.” When I said I was 34 weeks, up went the eyebrows. I smiled. It’s a frequent mistake. The yoga instructor explained that it can be up to 6 weeks to delivery after dropping for 1st time mothers. She started asking if I was effaced, which I had no clue about. Then, she felt of my belly, and said, “Hm. Here, look in my eyes.” Up went the eyebrows, “Well, you do have that look, you know like you’re in a different place. It may not be too long…” Ah, the unique perspectives of the French. Who knows?
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