Experts

I walked into Chipotle today behind 3 other women.

Girl #1 – Oh my goodness! Do you need to go ahead of us? You look like you could go at any time. Are you on your way to the hospital?

Me – (I was breathing normally, walking normally and I think even smiling) No, no. I’m fine. Ya’ll go ahead.

Girl #1 – How much longer do you have?

Me – 3 weeks. (Someone in the hall at work earlier asked me how much longer and when I answered 3 weeks and 2 days, it made for too much conversation, so I trimmed off the 2 days).

Girls #1, 2, & 3 – (mixed responses, all basically the same) – You’re not going to make it another 3 weeks.

Girl #2 – Is it just one?

Me – Yes, yes…. Just one (wishing conversation would stop – wtf?!? I should have told her I was having a litter of 8).

Girl #3 – It’s a boy isn’t it?

Me – Yes.

Girl #3 – I knew it. Looks like you’ve got a basketball underneath there. (Turns to other girls and talks about some relative of hers who carried just like me with a boy, making her an expert on the matter).
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As I get further along, I’m encountering lots of experts. Everyone wants to tell me about how they were carrying, or how they went into labor, or about their ex-brother-in-law’s sister’s kid. I pretend to care. The plant lady at work shared with me how her doctor turned around her breach daughter during birth (in far too much detail for someone I see 2 minutes each week), and how it was so terrible that she didn't have any more kids. Strangers sure do tell strange stories. I’m hoping to meet fewer “experts” in these last few weeks – not sure I can keep up the charade.