Eight is Great…

The 8th month of pregnancy has officially graced our doorstep and we are gladly welcoming the second to last month until Snowball rolls into town. I have to admit, I have yet to have any crazy pg puffiness (knock on wood), am still able to move up and down and mostly around with ease and have not been joined by any nutty cravings (not including a strange new hankering for an ice cold glass of milk) throughout Snowball’s short but significant existence. I keep waiting for the other proverbial shoe to drop but until it does, I am going to take advantage of this period of pre-baby bliss.

I have mentioned before that being pregnant lends itself to all sorts of new experiences. In the last couple of months, I have found that it’s as if strangers actually have magnets in their hands which are automatically attracted to the magnet that must be growing in my tummy tum tum because little Snowball attracts many a visitor’s touch. Snowball rarely stirs upon such activity and I figure that the whole “good touch bad touch” convo can take place once Baby Brehm has exited the womb. Oddly enough, people rubbing my bulging belly doesn’t bother me at all. Having very few boundaries comes in handy when you are bearing a babe and I’ve been told it will be even more convenient when I am in labor and every Tom, Dick and Harry are sizing up Snowball’s current space.

Another interesting product of packing the pouch is people feel it’s necessary to comment on your size whenever possible. My very favorite comments have included the following:
1. “Either you swallowed a basketball or something has happened since I last saw you.”
2. “You can’t even tell you’re pregnant from the back.” (wonderful, my butt has always been THIS size?)
3. “Either you’ve increased your diet or something has happened to you.” (yes, a baby happened to me and I do not think you really want me to explain what happened… or who.)
4. “Your boobs!” (when you start out with bee stings, any change is noticeable)
5. “How much more weight are you going to gain?” (no comment.)

Yet another development that I’ve found interesting is the need for every woman, whether they know you or not, to feel like they are your BFF because you are pregnant and they once were pregnant. Again, I love strangers. I could talk to a wall all day if the opportunity presented itself. But, it is so strange to have women smiling and staring at you in the produce section at the grocery store, commenting on your baby belly (especially because they have never met you before), and talking about their labor experience as they wait to be rung up at the gas station. Yesterday, I was at the gym and a very nice woman whom I’d never met struck up a conversation after awkwardly gazing at me for a few moments. She proceeded to tell me how proud she was of me for working out and explaining that she’d been watching me for months and noticed that I frequent the gym come rain, sleet or snow. Okay, as nice as this woman was and as much as it maybe even made my day a bit to receive kudos, the fact that she noted she’d been watching me for months was totally creepy. Somehow though, I know she believed that it was perfectly normal because I am with child.

I suppose that much beauty can be found in many of the things I’ve mentioned because what it boils down to is that the majority of the population recognizes what a miracle it is to have a baby and what a fantastic experience it is for most mommas. As the eighth month kicks off, I have no more expectations surrounding laboring our little bundle than I did 7 months ago, I have no doubt that I would totally do pregnancy again (at least it’s been a good ride so far) and I have all the hope that I will never buy a minivan. Hopefully everything else will just fall into place.