Margie Newman: Preggers

Large. And jamming to Michael McDonald at work. (34.5 weeks) (Taken with instagram)

I love how our birthing hospital has a piano in the lobby (Taken with instagram)

Many of my Preggers posts have highlighted the ridiculous things dude strangers said to me throughout my second trimester. But, now that I’m well into my third trimester, I’m discovering the tide has turned.

Dude strangers now seem to go to GREAT lengths to act like they don’t know I’m pregnant, while lady strangers have started blurting out mindless comments right off the bat.

Like this winner, which a lady stranger recently honored me with at a fancy DC lunch event: 

Lady Stranger: “Oh! You are HUGE! You must be due any day now!”

Me: “Actually, I have six weeks left.”

Lady Stranger: “OH MY! Just think how MASSIVE you will be by then!”

Me: {Blink, blink. Southern smile hiding the urge to punch her in the face} “Yeah.”

Lady Stranger: “Well! Congrats on the baby! Have a good day!”

This lady shall, of course, remain nameless…only because I HAVE NO CLUE WHO SHE IS.

People, I know I look like I’m smuggling a regulation size basketball under my shirt, but that is an observation ONLY I GET TO MAKE.

Geez-o-Pete, ladies. Take a cue from my fabulous friends and co-workers, who know to say things to Preggers gals like “you’re glowing” and “you look great!” Or just smile and nod. Better yet, do something helpful like buy us some Nutella, Gala apples, a McDonald’s milkshake or a Ruth’s Chris steak.

Here’s how this works: if you can’t bring yourself to lie to the Preggers, don’t say anything at all. 

{Note: To be fair, I did have two lady strangers approach me at a restaurant in New York and—Dave as my witness—shower me with the.sweetest.complements and well-wishes EVER. So, not all lady strangers have this problem…just the ones in D.C.}

A gentle reminder that I’ll soon resemble a deranged squirrel. Sweet. (Taken with instagram)

Man, I thought having the nursery completed and car seat installed made this whole pregnancy thing seem real. But nothing compares to the “OMG this is happening” I felt tonight, when I created a diaper drawer: 

Why Pampers? Because Amazon reviews and Internet message boards told me to buy them. 

There are, of course, other reminders. For instance, a closet full of dresses, fabulous onesies, and THREE BAGS FULL of adorable hand-me-down, barely-worn clothes that I will soon wash and fold:  

Oh, and baby nail clippers! I hear clipping your baby’s nails is the most terrifying thing on earth. So, you know, we’re looking forward to that:

And then…THEN! There’s the baby book! I’d love to show you our customized cover—because it’s awesome—but it has her name on it, so I can’t. Sorry! But here’s the inside:

The bottom line: we’re just really excited. We’re six weeks from the due date and two weeks away from our day-long child birth/baby class. And Georgia is totally stoked—or completely oblivious?—about meeting her little sister: 

Carseat Installation & Stroller Assembly day: things just got real. (Taken with instagram)

I’m super proud of how I’ve been using Listerine each day throughout my pregnancy. Good oral hygiene is key when preggers! And we all know Listerine is awesome for you and is nearly effective as flossing; except, without all that annoying floss. 

But today, my freshly Listerined mouth and I waddled into the dentist office for a routine cleaning, and this happened:

Dentist: “Hey! Your oral hygiene looks great. It’s all very clean in here. Have you been flossing?”

Me {beaming with pride and maternal glow}: “Not like I should, but I use Listerine every day!” 

Dentist: “NO. You can’t do that when you’re pregnant! Listerine contains ALCOHOL.” 

Me: “I’m not drinking it.” 

Dentist: “I know you better than that. BUT THE ALCOHOL SOAKS THOUGH YOUR MEMBRANES! To the BABY.”

Me: “But you just said I have great oral hygiene.” 

Dentist: “You must stop it. IT SOAKS THROUGH YOUR MEMBRANES.” 

So! Turns out Baby Girl Newman is a stumbling fetal drunk due to my daily Listerine swish. No worries though. I’m now the proud owner of a large bottle of Listerine Zero, which promises to keep my mouth healthy without inebriating ones’ fetus THROUGH THE MEMBRANES. 

Sweet. Because I’m sure six and a half more weeks of Listerine would have done SO MUCH MORE damage than the previous eight months have. Geez o Pete. 

But at least my dentist knows me well enough to believe me when I say “I’m not drinking it.” So I’ve got that going for me, which is nice.  

When you send a preggers to the grocery store, this is what you’re gonna get (Taken with instagram)

31.5 weeks. And I now straight up waddle. (Taken with instagram)

Swaddling practice, with “Baby’s First Bacon” (Taken with instagram)