Cletus Carries On

So many people have told me I look happier and I have a glow. Now, I think this is what you're supposed to tell a pregnant woman, but I eat it up anyway. I'm in my 18th week and because of my height and build am not particularly showing, although my sister saw me in a bathing suit a few weeks ago and said, "Woah, preggars!!!" I had to correct her and tell her that was my everyday fat - doi. My stomach has always stuck out; now I just monitor how much further it sticks past my boobs. I'm thinking it may be a good idea to get a push-up bra to even out the heft on the top and the bottom.

I see women on the train platform or the grocery store and I desperately to want saddle up to them and spout, "I'm pregnant too! I'm part of the club! Let's compare notes!" even though they're obviously much further along than me, and could really give a damn about this half-baked floozy. The strange thing is that I have no notes: I would not know I was pregnant. Only on two occasions early on did I experience any stomach upset, and it was simply, "I need to eat that bagel because I'm feeling a bit woozy." That's it. I was tired, but home at the time, so it was tolerable (and nicely filled the gap between the end of The View at Noon and the beginning of Ellen at three). I eat things and then realize maybe I shouldn't have (a turkey sandwich - god, it was good: grilled pear, cheddar, turkey on a baguette - two days ago, a big, sugary Coke yesterday). Even when you tell me I'm pregnant I'm skeptical. At my monthly doctor's appointment this week the ob/gyn put the doppler to my belly and said, "There's the heartbeat! 156 beats per minute!" I didn't hear a thing except some watery swooshing.

That's not to say I don't worry incessantly that something is wrong. I told my work last Friday only because my team brings up babies often. Our manager is currently out on maternity leave and we're all approaching 30, and I guess that's just what barely-30-year-old girls talk about in their cubicles. After a few days of feeling duplicitous ("Babies?! Eh. I dunno." was a memorable quote of mine after they mentioned they were nowhere near ready to rear a child) I came clean. They were phenomenal, but ever since then, however morose this sounds, I thought, "What is something happens?! I should have kept my trap shut!" Yesterday's heartbeat "confirmation" has made me feel more relaxed.

The good thing about being pregnant is that I can get away with almost anything since I can just blame it on Cletus the Fetus. This has included taking the dog out, making my own dinner, or, allowing myself to huge second portions. "Cletus is hungry! Cletus is tired!" when really Kathryn just wants to watch The Bachelorette (which isn't to say I don't do my fair share of housework, but this little trick has really come in handy of late).

A friend told me that dogs know when a woman is pregnant, but Penny has been ignoring me just as much lately, so who knows. At least I still have her to keep me grounded.