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Dear _____________:
Don't:
give me horror stories about your labor (does it look like I need stories of pain)
give me advice about raising children (did I ask for it)
tell me parenting is difficult (did I say to you that it looked easy)
tell me to work my ass off for the next 10 weeks (does it look like I'm not?)
ask me my weight (unless you want me to ask me yours)
tell me that I look huge for my 'month' or small for my 'month' or anything for my 'month'
touch my belly.
Do:
give up your sit on the subway for me
tell me to hang in there
ask me how I'm feeling
share the last piece of chocolate cake with me
ask me if I need anything
walk a bit slower when I'm walking next to you
offer a hand over an icy patch of sidewalk.
All the best,
Stephanie.
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My apologies for causing offense.
ReplyDeleteIf I rode the subway, I'd give up my seat to you - believe me, I know how exhausting the third trimester is.
Hang in there. It gets easier.
How are you feeling? Good, I hope.
Though I have no real chocolate cake to share, I'm sending you an imaginary piece. It's moist, delicious, has the perfect amount of icing and comes with zero guilt.
Do you need anything?
The slower pace and the hand across icy patches would readily be given if we walked together. But I can't guarantee both our safeties, klutz that I am. We'd probably fall down together but I'd try and break your fall any way I could. ;)
Hope this brightens your day. Keep up the good work.