{She Said} It was a Long Evening

Starting Tuesday, I hit a wall. I am now worn out, sore, and swollen. Not to the point of not being able to take being pregnant anymore (or really even wishing it to be over) but am definitely feeling the strain of it. This diatribe is only to set the stage for you to understand how the anecdotes from my long day yesterday might not seem on the surface to be particularly ridiculous but to me they were.

I worked a full day with my precious 7th graders. From work, Matt and I quickly ran some errands and grabbed some food before heading to Grapevine for our (well my but I have a supportive, involved husband so I say our) Breastfeeding Class.

Due to traffic and my generally slower movement, we were running late but I HAD to go and get some nursing bras and tops. We stopped at a Motherhood Maternity right by our hospital. I knew exactly what I wanted and needed because we had gone shopping for these things before at a different store and they just hadn’t had my size. So here we were. Immediately as Matt and I flew in to the store and across to the exact section I needed, a lady came over to ask if I needed help with anything. The conversation went something like this-

SALES lady: Can I help you with anything?
Me: Is this your entire nursing section?
SALES lady: Yes. Do you need to be fitted?
Me: No, I know exactly what I need.
SALES lady: Your size will be different…
Me: Yes but I have actually been to another store of yours and already looked at everything, they just didn’t have the size I needed so I’m here to get what I know I need.
SALES lady: Can I help you pick out a style?
Me: No, I know what I want. I’m pretty self sufficient.
SALES lady (turning around and walking off): Alright

I didn’t think much of this conversation until a couple minutes later when the other SALES (I emphasize the word sales because it didn't seem as if they knew that was their goal in this situation) lady asked the first if she had asked us if we needed any help and the first loudly exclaimed, as she was walking across the store, “No, they are self sufficient and don’t need any help.” I gave my best-‘ I can’t believe your gall’ look to both of the sales ladies and went about my business. The second one did seem a bit embarrassed by this but who knows- maybe working in a maternity store gives you some sort of entitlement that I am not aware of.

To top all of this off, they had evidently decided just before we got there to update their receipt software so they couldn’t check us out (remember we are running WAY late) so Matt had to end up paying with cash and not getting a receipt for our goods. While all this was going on both sales ladies were trying to make small talk with me- it didn’t go well for them.

After finally getting out of there with some anxiety relieved about having a baby and having some appropriate nursing clothing articles in tow, we busted it over to the hospital where (after a quick bathroom break) we made it just in time before the program started. We took the last set of two chairs together and as we got settled looked down to realize that our fake baby (you know, the one I would be pretending to nurse) was an African American child. This struck me as hilarious. It was mature. I also found it (inappropriately) hilarious when things like breast pads, pumps, creams, and such were passed around to Matt who would then examine them very closely to be (appropriately) engaged in the class. About half way through the class, I looked down to see that our little bundle of joy had a hospital bracelet on his ankle. Evidently his name was Baby Michael- of course it was.

We noticed a growing problem during class- my ankles and feet. I hadn’t had a moment of rest all day and the effects of that were seen clearly in my lower extremities. My feet were literally swelling around my flip flop straps. We got them up as soon as we got home…

And miraculously this morning they are right back down to a more (but not really) normal size…