The pesky finger

As my stomach begins to get bigger and more uncomfortable for my normal clothes by the minute, I am resigned that I will no longer be able to hide my pregnancy from the people who I don't want bothering me about it. It will be visually impossible to deny that yes, I am cooking up a baby in there.

While I am currently at that glorious point where I can play it off that my fatty deposits like to accumulate in one particular abdominal area, it doesn't stop people from looking and giving me inquisitive faces. There is a process when someone starts to notice my stomach in conversation and it goes something like this:

"Hey! So (eye's glance at stomach then quickly back up) what's new with you? Have you (second glance to stomach, significantly longer than first) finished school? What's next on the job front? (eyes back to stomach, then looking pleadingly at me to say something to explain this odd bulge)"
"Well, I'm having a baby."

I am going to stop this dramatic reenactment here because this is where I end the conversation. The point when I reveal I am pregnant and people IMMEDIATELY look at my left hand ring finger. Guess what idiots? There is nothing there, and there is nothing wrong with that.

I didn't realize I had hopped into a time machine and was now living in 1955. I don't remember hanging out with Doc Brown and Marty McFly anytime recently, so why do people act like we live in the age where single mothers were social pariahs?

I have honestly considered buying some giant cubic zirconia of a ring at Claires just to get people off my back. Those of you reading this know me, and know my boyfriend is amazing. I believe we will one day legally complete our family, but sometimes I just want to rent a billboard that reads "Just because we aren't married doesn't make us less of a family."

I seem to live in an awkward middle ground. I'm not one of those teenage mothers featured on MTV reality shows, but I'm not a 30-something career woman either. I walk the tightrope between being completely irresponsible and totally prepared. I have a committed partner, we just have different last names.

From now on I am going to have fun with this. When people ask if I am getting married I'm going to answer "Well we can't. Not until the Kentucky legislature appeals that silly same sex marriage law." or "Yes, but it was too expensive for my Mormon husband to buy all of us wives our own rings, so we take turns wearing it."

If you are going to be shocked by my lack of a ring, then I don't really care to share my baby news with you.
Because when I finally do get married, chances are those people won't be on the guest list.

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