buy Pregabalin in the uk ‘Ooh that’s a big bump! How much longer have you got left?’ The cashier at Asda asked. I told her I’m due in March. The colour drained from her face and she vomited into her lap.
get link Or at least, that’s what the reaction is beginning to feel like when I’m asked on average five times a day by random strangers and they look aghast imagining how ginormous I’ll be when I finally give birth.
I’ve been told, by people I have never met before:
– ‘Ooh you carry large, don’t you?’
– ‘Wow that’s a massive bump for 7 months!’
– ‘Are you sure it’s not twins?’
– ‘My daughter-in-law is 35 weeks pregnant and her bump is half the size of yours!’
And my personal favourite:
– ‘Are you drinking too much water?’
There’s something mystic and compelling about a pregnancy bump that makes perfect strangers feel like they have carte blanche to make deeply personal comments and assertions about your ability to grow a baby.
Is it because they’re so visible, so obviously not a normal part of you, that people think your bump is somehow fairgame for anyone to comment on? Like a jaunty hat or a sale tag accidentally left hanging out the back of a jacket?
These comments, day in day out, can make you feel like you’re somehow growing your baby ‘wrong’.
But the truth is, obviously, there’s no right or wrong way to grow your baby. Some people carry small, some people carry big, some are in the middle, and all are doing incredible work by growing and sustaining new life inside them.
I personally love how huge my stomach is – I love the constant reminder that my new little human is growing nicely inside me and is on its way soon. Before I know it, the baby will be out in the big world and I know I’ll miss my ‘mahoosive belly’ when it’s (somewhat) gone.