Skip to main content

... of being "that pregnant girl".

Quinn and I visited Pepperdine a few weekends ago when we were in California for a wedding. That campus is really beautiful and I didn't think about it enough when I was there. So we decided that it was small enough and beautiful enough to warrant doing a walking tour rather than a driving one. Luckily, the students were a few days away from being able to be on campus for move in, etc. but there were still a small amount who were looking around with their parents or had been working on campus. As I was walking down lower dorm road on this gorgeous day with my wonderful husband, we passed by two girls who gave me a brief startled glance before overting their eyes. "What the heck?" I thought. "Do I look that old? Is there something on my face? Am I dressed wierd?" And then I realized: I was a college-aged looking person, with nothing on my face, dressed completely normal, who was also definitely 6 months pregnant.

I taught high school for 3 years and taught/saw more pregnant girls that I can count. While high school pregnancy is (sadly) becoming much more frequent, college pregnancy is something you just don't see very often. I surmise that this is because having a high school diploma is a benchmark; you reach it and you can get much better jobs; Public education is free and if the girls can phyisically make it through before and after the baby is born, there is nothing else to inhibit them. College, however, is expensive, it is not mandatory, and it is demanding. This is especially true of a private, Christian university like Pepperdine. I never saw a pregnant student at Pepperdine.

So the startled stares from these girls made sense and it also made me completely self conscious.

Then, this week, I visited a past student of mine on her small, private, religious college campus... still definitely 6 month pregnant, still college-aged looking, and still very self-conscious. I voiced this to Chelsea as we walked on the populated sidewalks. I wanted to make a sign that I could wear that said: "I am 27." Since I couldn't do that, Chelsea and I just walked from one building to the next saying: "I can't believe I'm 27!" and "Too bad you're 27!" and the like as loudly as possible. I glanced behind me at the girl who had been walking behind us for a bit, who was grinning as she turned toward her destination. Well, if nothing else, at least the situation made me mildly entertaining.

This has prompted a change in my pregnancy dressing decisions. Up until that point, I had been purposefully wearing tight shirts so that my little ball of Abram was obvious and whether or not I was just "putting on weight" was never a consideration for onlookers. I now realize that if I am going to be on a college campus (as I did send the costume shop my resume)... I'll wear the ambigous, long, flowy shirts and hopefully reduce the amount of stares at my little ball of Abram and assumptions as to what kind of girl I must be to be pregnant at a Christian university.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

... of the tipping point

 I haven't blogged in so very long, I can't remember when and I'm not going to stop this thought train to go and check. Suffice it to say, it's been awhile. But I showed up here to share (and document) a major event in the life of our family.  Before Moses came home, I would see adoptive families posting about their kiddos' "Tipping Point Days". I recently heard it called something else as well, but I'm too tired to think of it right now. Basically, it is the day when your adopted child has been with you for as long as they were not  with you. For kids that were adopted at 1 or 2 or 3, that seems to come quickly and maybe feels eventful, but not monumental. Well, when we got custody of Moses he was about 4 years and 9 months old. I remember coming back to America and seeing someone in my adoption group post about their 2 or 3 year old's Tipping Point Day and thinking I should figure out when Moses's would be. So I did. I sat down and figured ou

... of a patent

... or maybe, just maybe , I'm jumping the gun :) A good friend told me the other day that she and her husband have been leaving church after the worship because she can't sit for an extended time in the folding chairs. Our church did a great thing and bought inexpensive folding chairs for our sanctuary in order to 1)save money and 2)be able to use the empty room for community type events in the neighborhood during the week. This is awesome. I support their decision and so does my friend who is leaving after the worship (and watching the previous week's sermon from home). But she is pregnant. She already had back problems and now (of course!) they are worse. My back is just starting to bother me and I know that there are many pregnant women with back problems and normal people with back problems who whimper inside a little every time they enter a room and see folding chairs. Until now, I had just sort of reconciled myself to the fact that sitting in a folding chair was

...of my ER defense

Many of you may have been reading the updates about Abram's "condition" on Facebook. As I contemplated putting up the information about what was going on for all the world to see, I have to confess that I was thinking that everyone was going to think I was crazy. "Her kid can't stand up for a day and all of a sudden she's going to the emergency room right at bedtime?" Well, I'm here to justify myself (although I realize there really isn't a need for that, based on the amount of wonderful support I got from people) and tell you a little bit of what I learned - for those of you who might be interested in some medical knowledge you may not have known. Just so you know, I did not take pictures of this event, so there are none here to see. Pictorial documentation of your child's first ER visit isn't something you think of until after you leave with the assurance that everything is probably going to be ok. Looking back, there was a lot of