Milking it by accident

One of the fun things about pregnancy is that the minute anyone finds out you're growing a baby human they start treating you with kid gloves. People suddenly demand that they carry things for you - like your grocery bag or a heavy box. Or your bottle of soda. Phew! Wouldn't want to put any stress on my arm!

Friends who are normally crazy drivers suddenly drive the speed limit and take corners with extreme caution; tailgating? God, no. Friends who smoke suddenly refuse to do it in front of me - even outdoors. On a windy day. People who never blinked when I swore like a sailor ask, "Are you going to still talk like that when your kid is born?" (the answer to that question is, "Probably - but not so much on purpose.") The other day at work I walked into a meeting where all the seats were taken, and without missing a beat, a co-worker stood up and said, "You can sit." I said that wasn't necessary - after all, I'm not so pregnant that standing has become a chore. But she insisted, so I accepted. I swear, I'm not milking this pregnancy thing on purpose. Even when you're not trying to milk it, people will do it FOR YOU.

Oddly enough, M is not one of these people. He will still allow me to pick up relatively weighty objects, won't think twice about handing me two (or five) grocery bags to carry, and I don't see him relinquishing his seat for me. This is not because he is thoughtless. It's just that he knows I don't need that kind of thing from him. And if I did, he'd have made up for it by getting more protective of me in ways that most people probably would never notice. He wonders aloud if I should use household cleaning products, and whether I should walk Ollie along dark streets. He never grumbled (much) when I kicked him repeatedly (and then just kicked him OUT of bed) in the first trimester for snoring too loudly and preventing me from sleeping. And he has never once made even the slightest bit of noise about how utterly lazy I have become. He takes Ollie out more than he should have to because he knows I will get unnaturally cold by going outside.

So at home, I still make plan and make all the dinners, and I still carry the heavy vacuum up from the basement, and I still do stuff that perhaps some pregnant women might milk their way out of. But I'm really lucky that, on the days when I do nothing but sit on the couch watching reruns of Friends that I've already seen 15 times, he doesn't bother me about it.