Saturday, 12 February 2011

The pregnant princess

Pregnancy is a funny thing, warned by my doctor not to lift a lot after my little op I have found people in general being wonderfully helpful and almost stern in their pursuit to stop me straining myself. 

I regularly have a little suitcase in tow, my working week is in London while my weekends are spent in the place I call home, Liverpool, add this to my various international buying trips you could say I get around a bit. 

I've tried to keep what I carry to a minimum, a laptop and a handbag, but this week I am off to New York where its minus temperatures require the bump to be well layered to keep warm, so am taking a few things home from London (I pack in Liverpool, complicated I know but stay with me) 

So, I cram my little suitcase with required high tog items and call a cab to take me the short distance from my London home to the local train station, now this particular morning I decided to not to wear my usual pregnancy work uniform of maxi dress and cropped jacket, in favour of an Acne dress I am rather fond of, black of course, above the knee, Aline, but more importantly to the story, loose with varying levels of layers all over. 

My taxi arrived and so I popped my case outside the front door and went to grab my handbag, when the driver didn't retrieve my case and put it in the boot, I assumed he hadn't seen it, so I politely asked him if he would bring it down the stairs and put it in the boot, he got out of the car, and I saw the look, the look that told me knew couldn't tell I was pregnant, the look that said he thought "why would a young able bodied young woman not be able to lift this minuscule object?"(now the case is small but deceivingly heavy) that's when I knew I had made a huge wardrobe error, on a day when I needed pregnant woman induced chivalry I had unwittingly hidden by secret weapon, my bump. 

And so it began, at the train station I stood at the top of the staircase and when a helpful looking gentleman came along I asked him would he mind helping with my case, first came the look, then loud and clearly audible tut/huff, he took my case, but unlike previous occasions when my bump was clearly visible there was no "yeah no problem" . Usually my case is whisked away and given back to me at the bottom of the stairs with an understanding smile or a "there you go luv", this makes me feel better for asking a complete stranger to help me with something that's totally not their responsibility. 
But this time, said gentleman took the case, left it at the bottom, and walked away without waiting for my thanks, I was mortified, its not his fault of course, he didn't know my predicament, It was hidden under several layers of Swedish design, he probably thought, who does this Scouse princess think she is asking me to carry her case??? and I wouldn't blame him! 

Now London gets a bad rap, most visitors to the capital mention the lack of manners they experience when using public transport, the pushing and shoving on the tube, and more importantly the fact hardly anyone uses the words please, thank you or even sorry when they elbow you in the ribs. 
The uncivilised way commuters are forced to travel around London squashed into one another does not inspire goodwill, and furthermore in the defence of native Londoners, one third of people living in the capital were born abroad, so the chances of bumping into someone who was born under the bow bells are slim. 

Anyway, my day pretty much followed the same pattern, with my bump under wraps my damsel in distress act was dismissed, i was even asked by a supplier if i had a big lunch!

The moral of this story is when pregnant, do the right thing, wear clothes that show off your bum it generally ensures you a seat on the train/tube/bus and prevents any misunderstandings about your expanding shape! 

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