Week 22 Day 5
I'll be starting a new job next Monday, and they have no idea that I'm pregnant. "They don't know?!" says everyone I tell this wonderful gossip to. I'm determined to overcome the nervousness that this brings, and instead walk in and contribute my maternal-pregnant-love joy feeling to the corporate world.
I've already fooled the HR people when I went to sign the forms, I'll have to fool some more of them when I go for the drug test and finger printing. No, it's not a CIA job, but it is America (shrug). And fooling people is no small feat now because I am a big mama, certainly not one of those women who have a tiny perfect 5 month bump.
To prepare for work, I began hunting the city for loose clothing that disguises pregnancy. There seems to be a trend of fitting clothing, through which everyone can see not only the bump, but also the belly button outline. I need those smocks from the 40s, discreet and elegant. Under those smocks, who knows if you are hiding a baby or a eating obsession (maybe both). So far, my hunt led me to Cadeau, a fancy boutique where I spent $400 on a pair of pants and a beaded smock. But I do look so glamorous. Manhattan is a dangerous place for a woman's wallet.
Yesterday at the "Planning a Healthy Pregnancy" seminar at Beth Israel - where I'm birthing I've finally decided after days of agonizing over how sterile and clinical and hospital-y it was - Pat told us that we must talk to our babies. Now, I knew that, having read it in a magazine somewhere. But I'm not sure what to say to Olive Holm besides "Hello, how are you," and "I love you!" I do sing her songs based on her name and a few other words.
I've already fooled the HR people when I went to sign the forms, I'll have to fool some more of them when I go for the drug test and finger printing. No, it's not a CIA job, but it is America (shrug). And fooling people is no small feat now because I am a big mama, certainly not one of those women who have a tiny perfect 5 month bump.
To prepare for work, I began hunting the city for loose clothing that disguises pregnancy. There seems to be a trend of fitting clothing, through which everyone can see not only the bump, but also the belly button outline. I need those smocks from the 40s, discreet and elegant. Under those smocks, who knows if you are hiding a baby or a eating obsession (maybe both). So far, my hunt led me to Cadeau, a fancy boutique where I spent $400 on a pair of pants and a beaded smock. But I do look so glamorous. Manhattan is a dangerous place for a woman's wallet.
Yesterday at the "Planning a Healthy Pregnancy" seminar at Beth Israel - where I'm birthing I've finally decided after days of agonizing over how sterile and clinical and hospital-y it was - Pat told us that we must talk to our babies. Now, I knew that, having read it in a magazine somewhere. But I'm not sure what to say to Olive Holm besides "Hello, how are you," and "I love you!" I do sing her songs based on her name and a few other words.
posted by Mama at 3:28 PM
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