Pregnancy is not always pretty. On TV, it is super pretty, and delightful.
In real life, it's disgusting, painful, emotional, and at the end...I am certain...amazing and beautiful.
These days, it's more in the realm of the first three adjectives.
I just ran out over my lunch break to grab a sandwich.
The cafe was busy, it was noon, and for some unknown reason, they only had two people working.
Interesting staffing decision.
I stood in line, and waited to order.
The 12 year old employee walks up and asks the lady in line after me what she can make for her.
I stare at her, start to gasp, whine, stomp my feet.
Yes, I did all of those things.
Yes, I am slightly embarrassed about this.
I waddle over to the register and ask if I was supposed to take a number or something...or if there was some "sandwich ordering procedure" of which I was unaware.
Yep, I used the terms "Sandwich ordering procedure".
The 13 year old register girl looks at me like I am nuts, and tells me to wait in line.
I tell her I WAS waiting in line, but she helped the lady AFTER me.
The 13 year old just shrugs her shoulders.
I walk back over to the line, hungry, 9 months pregnant, crabby that my baby is not here yet.
As though those things are their problems.
The 12 year old sandwich girl helps the next person in line. 2 people after me.
I lose it.
Like actually physically lose it.
She looks at me and says, "Oh, I didn't see you standing there."
Uh, for real? I'm gigantically pregnant and stomping around. You didn't see me?
I stomp out of the cafe.
It was bad. Why am I sharing this with you?
I have no idea. I have no filter.
And, I'm a truth-teller. And this is the truth.
Sometimes you just have a breakdown in the sandwich line because they help the people after you , instead of you, and you are 9 months pregnant, and your back hurts, and your feet are swollen, and you just want to eat a sandwich and meet your baby.
Is that so much to ask?