There is a lady in my office who is pregnant. Normally, this would bother me a little, but because of who it is and because of the way she handles herself, it is absolutely unbearable.
Ever since the first week of November, she has complained CONSTANTLY about this poor little life growing in her. Before she was pregnant, she complained from time to time about wanting more kids (she has a son with severe ear and respiratory problems; she is an avid smoker, and though I am not BLAMING that fact on her first child’s issues, it is noteworthy). I have had to hear every single little thing about this baby–and I just live in a closet in a corner that no one visits! One lady who actually has to work next to here expressed a desire to get a big jar of rubberbands and shoot them at her head throughout the day. I wanted to tell her that would be fantastic.
Based on the number of doctor’s appointments she has and the amount of information she gives us about this child daily, I assumed she was due in April, May at the latest. I have been hoping every day she gets put on bedrest because I simply cannot handle dealing with her constant baby monologue. (I have panic attacks at work sometimes because I feel like I can’t get away from something that is very stressful.)
Today in our staff meeting, someone asked when the baby was due.
I was so shocked, I was nearly sick.
She’s due in July.
Not only does that mean THAT MUCH LONGER that I have to deal with her (unless she gets the blessed bedrest), but her due date is just three and a half weeks before my last baby’s due date (around the time we figured the baby would be born, provided he was early like Seraphim), had he not died a month ago. That makes her right around 17-18 weeks pregnant. We’ve had to deal with her since the day she missed her period. If I were still pregnant, I would definitely still not be telling folks–especially at work!–that I was having a baby. I was set on 20 weeks, or after. Probably till I had a baby in my arms, really (although I suppose I might tell my boss a little before then…).
She also sees the same doctor I did. Which means that doctor saw HER before she was 12 weeks pregnant, but refused to see me.
I could scream. At this point, the child feels like a personal insult to me on so many different levels. No one there has EVER asked about my baby, even though I have a picture next to my computer of him because he helps me get through my day. Even though they knew I was gone for seven weeks. Even though they knew I was pregnant this time last year.
I need something to change so badly right now.