And so begins the unsolicited advice...

I'm in the home stretch kids... 11 weeks left to due date and I am, well, terrified. Yes, I'm excited too, but frankly I'm mostly scared at the moment. Mostly about that big unknown Labor & Delivery. I keep reading about it (that does NOT make it better, I may stop doing that) and my classes won't be for another month, so I have to wait.

The other fun part about this stage... I'm getting huge. So huge in fact that there is no doubt I'm pregnant. And so begins the Unsolicited Advice Police... usually comprised of grumpy old ladies who apparently feel that we moms these days have it way too easy, are too wimpy or are too fat.

You see these ladies (most of whom haven't given birth since 1930-1950-something) hail from a day where you "hid" pregnancy, where there were no drugs available and where you were only encouraged to gain 17-20 pounds (must have been part of the attempt to hide it). The pregnant body was not a lovely thing and women were to buck up and shut up about it. These are the ones who tell you what NOT to buy or eat at the grocery store, who come up to you and touch your belly without asking, and who lecture you on either proper delivery or proper child rearing.

I ran into my most annoying GOLUSAP (Grumpy-Old-Lady-Unsolicited-Advice-Police) while having to do my glucose screening for gestational diabetes. She was the phlebotomist who was taking my blood. Let me preface this by saying I'm now in the uncomfortable part of this pregnancy. He's pressing up against my rib cage or pushing down hard on my hips and I'm moving a lot slower.

So this GOLUSAP calls my name (mispronounced of course) and I'm rising somewhat slowly from my chair as my legs are bothering me this particular morning. She calls out in her best drill seargant snap "Come On! Stand up Tall!" NOT the thing to say to me at 7:30 a.m. So I approach her with all 5'1.5" of me under control and just replied "Sorry, this is as tall as it gets." Those of you who know my propensity for sarcasm can now imagine the tone I used in this sentence.

THEN, not to be outdone, as I'm walking down the hall she says "Tight buns now. There's no need to waddle. You don't need to waddle yet." EXCUSE ME?! I had read about this in The Girlfriends Guide to pregnancy, how older women will encourage you to walk with your butt tight at all times to prevent waddling (another part of hiding it)... but here was this old bitch saying it out loud. I just shot her a nasty look over my shoulder (if you've seen the bitchy half-smile i give to people who have just pissed me off, you know the look) and continued to WADDLE down the hall.

I am NOT, I repeat NOT, with my tired legs and my occasionally sore sciatica, going to walk around getting butt cramps to please these little old ladies who feel that we women today just show off our pregnancies too much. I'm carrying this child, I'm enjoying this experience, I was the one in discomfort that morning and I will DAMN WELL WADDLE WHEN I FEEL LIKE IT!

And to all you other GOLUSAPS out there I have more to say:
I will be gaining more than 20 lbs (I'm on track for about 40 and my doctor is thrilled! He discourages weight gain in the 25lb range and prefers 30-40 lbs)
I will most likely take advantage of the epidural during delivery
I will indeed waddle
I will proudly go out in public with my huge tent shirts and preggo pants no matter how big I get
I will eat honey (yes, I asked my doctor first)
I will take baths (there's a difference between baths & a hot tub)
I will eat spicy foods (I've been assured there's no danger)
I will have to return to work because we cannot afford to have me home
And I may have a cup of coffee from time to time (doc says I'd be fine with two cups a day, which is more than I can handle even non-pregnant)
Do NOT touch my belly without asking
Do NOT tell me I look ready to pop
Do NOT give me your child rearing theories (i like the job my mother did, so I already have a plan, thank you!)
and DO NOT tell me how to walk, sit, deliver quietly, deliver loudly, lose the weight after birth, who to let in the delivery room with me and how rough you had it.

I'm sorry you had no drugs. I'm sorry the world was unfair to women in those days and I'm sorry we pregnant ladies have so many more options on clothing these days. But I'm doing this my way, ladies, my way!

Now excuse me... I must waddle to the kitchen for some food. :)