Who's the barber here?

Don't mind my mid-80s SNL references, but I can't think of a better way to articulate the way in which the average bystander becomes an expert physician when confronted with a pregnant woman.  The sort of commentary the erupts from these meetings doesn't actually bother me at all, which is surprising.  I was equally surprised by the fact that I don't mind people touching my belly, but that is a whole different post.

Last night we had our big (smashingly successful) opening for a major European painter.  It was kind of a big deal.  Anyway, there was a woman here, very early on in the eveining, who asked how far along I was in my pregnancy.  When I told her, she gave me this crazy-as-all-get-out look and said, "that is one tiny baby."  Did she have on those special x-ray goggles I've been reading about in sci-fi comic books?  My defensive, protective mothering side wanted to smack her and tell her that this is the most perfect baby in the world, neither too big nor too small.  The curious side of me wanted to ask, are you a doctor or a fortune teller?  I let it be, chuckled, and told her that I had just checked out at the Dr. as perfectly average in the baby size department.  That crazy look never left her face during the entire exchange.

Some people find it disgusting (code for jealous) that not every pregnant woman tacks on enough weight that they actually look fat, not just pregnant but fat and pregnant.   I've gained a whopping 30 lbs since the VERY beginning, 25 lbs since they started weighing me in.  That's a lot of pounds on my frame, but since it isn't all in my cheeks and butt, people freak out when they find out I'm 8 weeks from delivery.

Truth be told there is no scientific way to determine baby size without an Ultrasound, which is 15%-20% inaccurate.  My OB basically just feels my belly, looks at my weight and tells me I'm average.  So that nutty lady at the opening could be right.  We'll find out soon enough!