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... 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.

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