I have the pleasure (debatable and drenched in sarcasm) of working with lots of men. And 90% of those men are over the age of 45.
I already knew that men were clueless before becoming pregnant, but let me just say - that men are really clueless. And insensitive.
When I first told my group that Ryan and I were expecting, everyone seemed genuinely happy and excited for us. It was then that I had two awkward conversations with two different male co-workers. They were excited for me, but it seemed like they were more excited to see me gain weight.
What makes me say that? Oh, I don't know.
One of the gem-gentlemen said, "So, when can I start calling you Chubs?" And you could totally tell he thought this was a valid question.
The other asshole said, "Lauren, you are going to totally blow up, man. You are gonna gain like 50 pounds," and proceeded to show how gigantic I would be by making his (fat) arms into a belly.
I am a pretty relaxed person, so I handled these situations by laughing them off and saying, "Uh, never?" to gem-number-one and "I sure hope not," to a-hole number two.
On the outside I kept my composure and was happy that my hormones have been pretty steady. But on the inside I was thinking, "Both of these men have wives who have been pregnant and given birth. To babies. Why the hell do they think it's OK or acceptable to say this crap to me?"
Let's fast forward to today.
The previously mentioned asshole said to me, "Lauren, you are blowing up*!" and then went onto say, "I bet you are going to have a 10 pound baby. Can you imagine getting that out?"
*I would just like to say that I have not blown up and have only recently started to really "show." Mmm, thank you.
It gets better. Thanks to the hormones, my face has been breaking out quite a bit. Mt. Everest and K2 have taken up residence on my chin. My BFF actually said to me, "You might want to put something on that!"
I'm pretty sure my face turned beet red and I nearly cried out, "You might want to cover up your balls because I'm about to rock your world."
I'm thinking that he (as well as every other man in my working group) should receive a laminated copy of this post from Pregnant Chicken, along with my own little tidbits of advice... And maybe a protective cup.
Just sayin'. We still have 20 weeks to go.