Pregnant Again!

For some unknown reason, people around me seem to KNOW I am pregnant, and they are telling me so matter of fact-ly. And for some unknown reason, there has been a lot of talk of pregnancy around me. Truth be told, I am not denying any statement insinuating I am preggo to the people saying it, so I suppose I am nourishing the rumor. I’m also guilty of benefitting from a couple of favors because the other person thought I was preggo.


Don’t ask me why this rumor started. I have three hypotheses:

1. I have put on weight and look pregnant –I weighed myself a couple of days ago and well I have added about 1.3Ibs (0.6kg), but that shouldn’t be so visible, right?

2. I am behaving pregnant. I can’t say about this, it’s for others to judge.

3. There is something about the way I look now that screams ‘preggos’! Maybe it’s just because with everything happening around me in the work front, I have aged, or am looking dull and moody than usual.

That said, if I didn’t know myself better, I would have thought also that I was pregnant yesterday. I came to work and immediately became grouchy and grumpy – complaining about things I should have gotten over with some time ago. I may have internalized more than I think and it is coming back to ‘hunt’ me. A colleague told me that my mood was a clear consequence of a hormone better known by it’s acronym, HGC (human chorionic gonadotropin) which is associated almost exclusively with pregnancy. So maybe I am pregnant and just don’t know it – if only I could ignore the fact that I knew I was pregnant when it was just a week old the last time, and my monthly biological clock is so right on time!

To cheer myself, I remembered the poem by the great Maya Angelou – STILL I Rise, which is relevant because it is talking about woman and womanhood.

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.


Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.


Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.


Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.



Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.


You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.


Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?


Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise

I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise

Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.


I rise

I rise

I rise.

Maya Angelou