Every day I am tempted to get a shirt printed with the following list of answers to the questions that seem to go part and parcel with my big baby belly:
- I feel fine. Chances are I will feel fine when you ask me tomorrow too but ask anyway because I really want to tell you about every ache and pain and twinge.
- February 18th. I would possibly add to that “Oh, well that’s nice” when told that their daughter/niece/cousin/father-in-law’s/next door neighbor’s birthday is February 2/12/24/6/19/27th.
- No, it would not be cool if my baby is born on February 14th. I personally think it would be a real drag to have your birthday on any holiday, let alone the most commercial and meaningless holiday of all.
- No, I don’t know whether it is a girl or boy. That’s nice that your daughter/niece/cousin/father-in-law/next door neighbor found out though.
- No, the nursery is not ready. But you’ll be the first to know.
And this three-parter:
- Yes, of course we have some names picked out but no, we have not decided. I never once even considered picking out baby names before the prospect of having a baby was real. I will decide what to name my child when I have spent a little time with him/her.
- It’s none of your business. In response to the inevitable question of what my name choices are.
- “Mmm hmmm, that’s nice” to a) the list of names that you will inevitably tell me you like and b) the name that your daughter/niece/cousin/father-in-law/next door neighbor decided on.
It is nice that so many people seem concerned about my wellbeing these days but for the love of pete! I am getting asked the same four questions by everyone I meet, not excluding strangers (cashiers, co-workers I’ve never met before, and random shoppers at the grocery store, to name a few). And it’s worse when you actually know the person a little bit. I swear the same five ladies at work ask me the same four questions at least once a week.
It gets old after 35 weeks. That’s all I’m sayin’.