What NOT to Expect When You're Expecting

Call me crazy, but before I joined the ranks of the procreators I assumed that public crowds were willing, nay obliged, to part ways to let through the waddlers like myself. Apparently not. As my hormones have been bubbling to the surface, I'm slightly ashamed to admit that my sense of entitlement has become somewhat enflamed too. Each and every man who neglects to hold that heavy entrance way door for me as I try to escape out of the 90 degree heat into the air conditioning, earns a deeply penetrating death stare into his back. Those folks out there who fail to acknowledge a struggling pregnant lady and choose to mosey on by whilst she chases rolling tins across the parking lot or as she tries to pick up some randomly dropped item that is way out of reach over her ballooning bump... well, you just don't how lucky you are frankly, to have gotten away unscathed.

http://babyshoediaries.blogspot.com/2011/04/beware-hormonal-pregnant-womanproceed.html

Luckily I'm yet to fall prey to a public outburst, which I'm sure would be received with shifty glances and a mass movement, subtly shying away from the crazed, pregnant lady who just lost her marbles in the middle of Walmart. I'm certain if I ever actually spoke my mind to these innocent folks, who of course are just calmly going about their own days, I would be filled with instant regret upon realizing that I was, in fact, not the center of the universe (although I do feel somewhat orbital right now).

The only case I've really come across where I was certain I deserved at least a moment of help from someone outside of myself, came recently at my local veterinary vaccine clinic. In a lobby full of nosey mutts, my own two dogs proceeded to wrap me up with their leashes whilst simultaneously pooing across the busy walkway floor. Excellent. Nice work guys. Slightly embarrassed (but also well aware that this is simply a hazard of the job - since I myself work in a vet hospital myself) I politely apologized and let a member of staff know about the 'accident' that had just occurred. A member of staff then proceeded to stuff wads of tissue into my hand as she stormed on by, undoubtedly towards a far more pressing mission (a quick chat with a coworker it seemed), and a whole waiting room of people watched blankly as I tried to balance my handbag, control two over-excited (and worryingly strong) dogs and get down onto the floor to clean up feces with one hand (without a trash can insight)... (not to mention getting back up off the floor. that was fun too, believe me). Honestly, I cried on the drive home. Perhaps I was totally out of line to feel at the end of my tether over that. Regardless, I did feel that way and I was mortified that I stumbled, wrestled and struggled without so much as a staff member attempting to help me (you know, being a paying customer and all).

http://ourfamilynest.wordpress.com/2011/07/24/pregnancy-week-33-the-whale-syndrome/

I don't for a second think that I deserve special treatment, after all I'm pregnant not ill, but I can't say for sure than if a similar scenario had played out in front of me that I would have chosen to glance in the opposite direction and refrain from offering even a reassuring smile. A little friendly compassion would go a long way to quiet these raging hormones... just saying.