We had a tremendous weekend, about which I’ve been looking forward to writing. It involved travel, music, a wedding, family, friends, lots of little people, and a little booze. But my two girls are asleep, one perhaps a more deeply due to two-month shots–proud to say that, unlike last time, I did not burst into tears when Evie’s face crumbled in pain. So I’m about to turn in, but quickly, because this is just too ridiculously obnoxious…
On the drive to the pediatrician’s, I was thinking that, despite making the mistake of getting on the scale last week, I’ve been good about psyching myself into feeling comfortable in my own postpartum skin. Woot!
So comfortable was I that I didn’t self-consciously suck in my tummy as I walked around a local coffee shop, bouncing my friend’s infant in my arms, ooo-ing and ahh-ing at all his distinct, adorable idiosyncrasies. An older woman approached me, “And when is your baby due?”
Straight-forwardly, and without animosity, I said the only thing that came to mind, “I’m not pregnant.”
“Uh. Oh, I see. Um, that was rude of me.”
I smiled at her, as if in agreement, and walked away. John later asked if I told her I was two months postpartum. No, better just let the woman feel uncomfortable, I thought. Can’t say my self-confidence didn’t take a stumble. Whatever.
A few snapshots of the Oppenheimer women from the weekend:
anna in med school 
Pfff. What an idiot. That’ll show her. Bill Cosby once said that you should never assume a woman is pregnant unless you see a baby actually emerging from her. That’s about right.
It’s in line with what happened to me once when Timmy (our youngest) was 2 and I was 34—and, I should add, a young-looking 34. I went into a friend’s office one rare day when I was off work during the week, and the receptionist complimented me on my adorable “grandson.” When I said he was my son, she smiled and said, “Oh, you *did* start late!” Hmph.
Sometimes I just hate people! (I really don’t, not at all, but come on!!!) I should be more forgiving, because goodness knows that I put my foot in my mouth on a fairly regular basis, but age and weight is just not something you should comment on to strangers.
Ugh! Sorry you had to go through that. As a hopeful pediatrician, I always lean toward assuming mother, aunt. sibling, though I’ve definitely seen my share of grandmothers in their 30s…but they don’t tend to get offended when I assume they’re mom!
I bet it isn’t because you hope to be a pediatrician. I bet it’s because you think it’s pretty heinous to assume that somebody is a child’s grandmother. 🙂
Awful! I came back to work 8 weeks after my son was born feeling pretty good as some of my pants were starting to fit. I felt good until a coworker came to congratulate me b/c he heard other people talking about how I was pregnant again. Hang in there!
Gah! I’m so sorry! That’s just ridiculous! I’m sure you looked fantastic. And I’m trying to remind myself that how I feel is more important, as cheesy as that sounds, it helps 🙂
What! You don’t look pregnant at all. That woman must be out of her mind. See you tomorrow!
Aw, thanks so much friend! Looking forward to seeing you tomorrow!