Shiloh is a PTA at my current clinical. She is pregnant; very, very, VERY pregnant. Everyone is sure they will have to perform an emergency delivery for her. (She isn’t due till late next week.)
I have seen plenty of expectant mothers before, but Shiloh is somethin’ else. For one thing, she is all baby. If you watched her from behind, you’d never know she had a baby growing in her; if you see her from the front, she looks like she has a 50 lb watermelon attached to her front, and that it’s a wonder it doesn’t tear off from all that unsupported weight. Her baby is projected to weigh at least 10 lbs, but she seemingly has not gained weight anywhere else on her body. (Not from lack of eating bacon, I assure you! Today she was wondering if anyone would recognize her if she went through the lunch line a second time.)
Even more strikingly, she doesn’t seem tired. Oh, she says she is, but she still willingly walks up four flights of stairs, baby-belly and all. Every once in a while, she comments wonderingly that “all I want to do is sit here.” It wouldn’t be so funny if she didn’t sound like it was such a peculiar idea, all the while wrapping her arms around her belly that looks like it’s ready to explode. It’s not her first baby, so it’s not like you’d expect her to be surprised at being at least a little fatigued.
Shiloh is the kind of person you didn’t think really existed. She always looks serene, and speaks in a smooth, calm, low voice. (She assures us she can be less than serene at home.) By the end of the day when everyone is getting a little frayed around the edges (never mind women who are 9 months pregnant), when things start going wrong–she laughs. A few times I have seen her rubbing her head, but it always turns out she had a headache.
I know she’s human, but still. If I should ever carry a baby, I hope I can do it with a smidgen of the grace she’s doing it with.
Shiloh, Shiloh, Shiloh. Are the rumors I hear true? Do you go roller-bladeing out on the sidewalk with your kids?