Shamefully, another long stretched of time has passed since my last turn at the keyboard. In some ways, a lot has changed since my last entry- I'm currently 5 months pregnant with my first child (and truly, amazingly thrilled and excited about this). In other ways I feel as though my life still revolves around dealing with and bitching about the same aggravating circumstances that work and general life bring---except with 15 extra pounds on my body and a painful lack of red wine and full strength java in my soul.

Being (now visibly) pregnant at work has been an amusing experience, as I feared/assumed it would be from the beginning. As any woman who has brought a child into the world has discovered, simply being pregnant invites all manner of boundary-less comments and advice from friends, family and total strangers. This I accepted as par for the pregnancy course. At work, I knew that my "condition" would not only invite questions and curiosity from colleagues, but also the clients with whom we work. As a social worker, this was new and unusual territory for me. Professionally, my boundaries are pretty clear and clients never know even a fraction of the information about my personal life that I know about theirs. My belly inevitably betrayed me, though, and out popped very clear evidence of something I had been involved with outside of work...

Not surprisingly, women who were mothers themselves were the first to notice the reason for my sudden penchant for oversized tunics. When I confirmed their hunch, they were practically high-fiving each other for their successful "outing". About a week later, a young man who had clearly been absent for the initial unveiling, announced from across the community room that I was "getting really heavy". When I informed him that I was actually with child and not just with cheeseburger and fries, he excitedly said "Really?" and scooted over to me to inquire about how I was doing. How is it that one person can squeeze abject rudeness and endearing sincerity into a 30 second time span?

I'm also tickled (not literally, good God...I pray nobody at work tries to tickle me literally) by the ways that my pregnancy gets woven into stories that some clients tell in almost rote fashion. One gentleman, who I have worked with on and off for eight years, who delivers the same monologue every week about the Bruins disappointing season (funny that he hasn't had to change that story over time), his psychiatrist's advice for staying out of McLean Hospital (take your medication and lay off the Molson), and the fact that Canadians will probably always be superior to Italians in ice hockey stopped by to see me a few days ago. When I walked out of my office to greet him, he glanced down at my round belly, inquired "What are you, pregnant?" and then proceeded to tell me that his mother thinks he's too obsessed with hockey but he's counting on the Bruins to pull it off this year. He didn't miss a beat. Similarly, a female client who often feels the need to check in with me about urgent matters, pulled me aside, stating that she needed to talk to me about something, but required privacy for the conversation. As she intently locked eyes with me, she began whispering conspiratorially that I looked too small to be 5 months pregnant and that it was a bad thing to have small babies. Here I was, thinking that she had her own crisis situation at hand, but she was more concerned with the circumference of my stomach. Just yesterday, this same woman announced (as I reached into the refrigerator for my lunch) that I should "go natural" when I gave birth. "Don't get that epidural!" she warned. "Of course you've got to have a high tolerance for pain..."

Funny scenarios aside, I'm also treated with incredible kindness...one woman inquired if she could "tempt" me with a blueberry muffin one morning. Others have offered to run to the store for me if I need it (I don't take people up on these offers, mind you. I've got to hold on to some professional boundaries!) Perhaps the sweetest interaction though, was with a young man who approached me earlier this week and innocently inquired: "I heard that someone here is pregnant, do you know who it is?" I swear to you, this guy almost bounced off of my protruding belly as he approached me, but I simply answered "Well, yes, it's me." and he gave the biggest smile and said "That's really nice. Congratulations!"

As I'm sure many pregnant women have felt, some days I wish I could suck in my expanding gut and go back to blending in with everyone else but I've got a few more months to go until that happens. In the meantime, I'll try to hold onto the humor of these situations, so that some day, I can tell my daughter, "When you were in mommy's belly, people used to tell me the funniest things..."