I saw a young pregnant woman at the mall the other day and noticed complete strangers giving her deference and smiling at her. I was envious. She was beautifully aglow with child. Pregnant women are like puppies — everyone loves them and wants to touch them. It reminded me of how much I enjoyed being pregnant. It also reminded me what a great excuse it was for things that in other circumstances would have people whispering behind my back.
My pregnancy was an incredibly happy time for me. I felt wonderful. I looked better than I ever have or ever will again and everyone was nice to me. But beyond that, every possible symptom can be blamed on pregnancy. Forget someone’s birthday? – I’m pregnant! Burp at the dinner table? – I’m pregnant! Sleep the afternoon away? – Pregnant! Go through the McDonald’s drive-through two times in a row? – Make way for the pregnant lady! In a good mood? In a bad mood? In the mood? In no mood? – Pregnant! Elastic-waisted pants? – Pregnant of course!
The bad new is that I still pretty much have all the same symptoms but now I only have menopause to blame them on and very few people want to pat the tummy of a menopausal woman.