Focusing on the Good

Things have been quite on the blog front the last month because they have been runaway train busy in the real world.

Being seven months pregnant has given me an appreciation for what women have been doing quietly to ensure the survival of the species since the start of the human species; working during this time has been both a blessing and also a challenge.

I'm astonished to discover the limits of my own strength -- which until now I've managed to push through -- being sleepy and unable to get things done; grumpy and not wanting to come out of a black mood; most of all impatient with things that are the way they are because its in people's nature and they can't change.

The rigid nature of some people or inefficient systems is not a happy thing to be confronted with when the entire flexibility of your body is being confirmed daily as your stomach, breasts, and face continue expanding. Not to mention fingers, feet, and legs.

In the Arab world where family is at the center of cultural and religious obligations, being pregnant is a pleasure. My co-workers don't let me lift heavy objects or expect me to pretend like everything in my life isn't changing all at once in preparation for the biggest change of all -- the arrival of the baby.

This supportive culture has draw backs as well, however, including that everyone says you are 'glowing' and you get pumped up by their exclamations of "You look great!" "It totally suits you!"

The reality is always there to face you. It's true what they say: the camera does not lie.

I've tried to say at work at that there are no more photos allowed of me from now on - months 7 through to the end. In a culture where many women are not photographed because of their families' displeasure, this could pass. But the opposite is true: everyone wants pictures of 'the bump' in profile.

Well the bump is turning into much more of a sizeable mountain than the euphemistically named "bump."

Going forward I'm going to give up all pants or the requisite bending of your legs to get into a pair of anything. Dresses are going to be the norm going forward.

So many new mothers told me not to buy too many maternity clothes but apparently they didn't get as big as I did or they weren't working as long as I am. Because my clothes, while always loose to be appropriate in the Middle East, now leave nothing to the imagination about the 'bump'. Wearing tight shirts just makes my already stretching skin feel more watermelon like.

The best part of this has been being pregnant with other people who are also in the various stages of this humanity serving lunacy. Take for example today: a friend and I who both tested a little over on our glucose tests are now here with our laptops at the hospital during the four hour extended test for which we fasted all night, and now can't eat anything until it's over (mixed with blood drawing every hour for four hours).

So it's true: misery loves company.