Dermatologists....who needs 'em.

Looking back on my pregnancy, I can remember some pretty funny moments and some that were not funny at the time but looking back I have to chuckle. 

One of these not so great moments that in hindsight is so awkward I have to laugh now happened while I was at work.

One afternoon while I was working at the art gallery, a man came in and was interested in one of our artist's work. As big pregnant as I was at 9 months ( it was a week before my due date), I was still moving paintings around like a champ.Whenever I did this, there was always the awkward, "So when are you due"

To which I replied, "Next week."

And as with all conversations like this there was always that uncomfortable "Well don't have it here, now." look that instantly reflected on their face. Followed by the "Trust me, I won't, you moron." thought that instantly crossed mine.

And then our conversation went here....

"So shouldn't you be on maternity leave."

And I said something like, I wouldn't know what to do with myself at home. So might as well wait it out here, I guess." The thought of me being almost nine months pregnant and watching Oprah on the couch was too much for me to think about. No sense in have Prepartum depression before the post.

And all the while I pulled painting after painting out until he found the one he was looking for.

"I need to think about it." he said.

I offered to email him an image of it which he thought was a great idea and he followed me as I waddle my very pregnant self back to my desk to write down his email.

And the conversation went here....

"Here's my email address." He wrote it down for me and handed me the piece of paper. I glanced down at it as he tells me something about how his email address has to do with the fact that he's a dermatologist. 

 

I didn't get it. But okay. 

Then I remembered that there was a dermatology convention in town.

And he said something like, "Thanks for everything. I really love this painting. I just want to see if I have the right space for it."  I agreed that this was important. And as we wrapped up the conversation and we politely said our goodbyes, and my hand went up the air to wave him goodbye, the conversation inexplicably went here....

"Don't worry," he said as he turned to wave goodbye. "You're face won't always look like that."

And as I stood there waving, I said, "Huh?"

He walked on over to me and pointed at my face. My face that over the past nine months had had its fair share of breakouts from all the lovely hormones pumping through my system. My face that as we spoke looked the best in my mind, that it had the whole pregnancy. My face that I thought was having a good day.

And if to make matters worse. If to put the icing on the deliciously rude cake this man had made for me. He repeated it again. His hairy finger in my face, he added. "You know, it's a pregnancy thing."

I don't know what thoughts were going through my mind at that moment. I can tell you that it took him walking out the door for it fully register, because the moment after he clarified what he said. The moment after he removed his finger from the space in front of my face...I thanked him.

Are you wondering why? Me too.

I thanked him like he had just told me I won Miss America. Like he had just given me the Nobel Peace Prize for just being me.

"THANK YOU!" I gushed "Thank you so much!" And I smiled this great big smile and I laughed this great big hearty, I'm jolly and pregnant laugh.

And what did he do? 

He smiled and he nodded his head and he left. Pleased with himself. Glad that he told me.

As he walked through the door, I stood there blinking, wondering what in the heck just happened. 

My co-worker snapped me back to reality....

"Did that man just say what I think he said."

"Yes, he did." I said flatly. "Yes, he did."

To anyone who has ever been pregnant or is pregnant, I'm sure you have had a moment like this. I can laugh at mine now. If you want to share I would love to hear some venting. :)