The Pregnant Lady Ugly-Crying at the Mall

Yes, I was six months pregnant, alone, and ugly-crying in the middle of the mall the Saturday before school started. You can imagine the looks I received… I’m sure people thought my baby daddy had just abandoned me… Or maybe they actually thought I was an over-hormonal and emotional pregnant lady crying over something trivial… The reason may or may not really be the latter.

Anyways, it was the weekend a local radio station had set up in the center of the mall to hand out school supplies to students in need. I did not know this prior to going, but when I showed up and there were lines of people from the center of the mall clear to the end of one wing, I became a little curious as to what was going on. So I continued my walk to the maternity store, did my shopping, went to get a pretzel, and in all of this time, the lines were still just as long. They were never ending.

So I sat. I looked at the innocent faces of the children in line as I snacked on my pretzel, and I began to cry. Not just one or two tears. I mean I bawled. Because here I was buying myself new pants and eating a pretzel, while these innocent children waited hours for a pack of pencils and paper. 

I wept for those kids who have needs that I will never know. I wept for the parents who can’t provide their families. I wept for the families who may not have food to eat or warm places to sleep. I wept for all of the needs I will never know. Then I wept for my own kids and how much they already have and how, hopefully, they will never experience these needs. I wept for all of the kids who have never felt loved. And I wept for my kids who only know love.

Each year my church shows a video of them handing out hundreds and hundreds of backpacks to the kids in our area, and each year I cry watching that video. But seeing it in person was such a humbling experience.  I think about how much I take for granted. How often I forget to be thankful. How the small things to me are big things to others…

So, yes, I was the pregnant lady ugly-crying at the mall on one of its busiest days of the year…

Pregnancy Turmoil

I remember being pregnant with you… To be frank, I was miserable. I was burning alive, aching all over, stretched to the max, and aching some more. I saw other pregnant moms with this pregnancy glow talking about how they loved being pregnant and feeling their babies move and how pregnancy was what they were meant for. Not going to lie, this scared the be-jeezus out of me, because I didn’t have ANY of those feelings whatsoever.

Yes, I wanted to feel you move, but only enough to know you were still okay. Anything more than that I considered torture. You were nearly two feet long in my abnormally short torso, so neither of us had much room left. I’m sure you were nearly as miserable as me.

But seeing other moms so content and confident made me worry I didn’t have the bond with you that they did with their babies. I had read the horror stories of some moms developing the postpartum blues and rejecting their babies… I was fearful that since I didn’t love pregnancy, I wouldn’t love you. Oh, how I was wrong.

After hours of pushing, I was making silent plea bargains with you: “I’m doing all I can, baby, if you’ll help me out here, I’ll help you out too.” “We’re a team, let’s help each other.” And since I had made you a promise, I would push harder.

Looking back, I realize that I was already attached and just didn’t know it. Then after more hours of the hardest work-out I have ever done in my life (cross-fit has nothing on labor), the doctor threw you in my arms (literally threw you) and you were crying the most beautiful noise I have ever heard in my life and you were the sweetest thing I had ever seen in my life and I was more in love than I ever had been in my life. I remember thinking to myself: “We definitely have the bond.”

And we have been inseparable ever since.