an opinion as big as my belly

I know the topic of politeness and pregnancy has been discussed by all of us. Especially when it come to being offered a seat on the subway. Do you, don't you? Why some people do, why most don't.

There was an article in the City Room section of The New York Times, posted this past Friday, regarding this very subject. You should read it. Not necessarily for the article itself but, instead, for the comments. Wow! There are some nasty people in this city. It only reminds me of my own, and still continuing, experiences being pregnant and trying to find a seat on the subway.

Look, I'm not blind, I'm not old, I'm not crippled, and I'm certainly not fat. I'm pregnant. And yes, it was by choice. But to all of you assholes on the N, the W, or any other train line in the MTA system, let me tell you this: You run past me for an empty seat. You stare at my belly for a period of time that borders on outright rude. You put in your earbuds in an attempt to "ignore" me. Your entitled attitudes towards a fucking seat for 3 stops makes you retarded. And I understand, being retarding is a disability, and not all disabilities can be seen. However, my pregnancy CAN been seen. I try to stick it in your faces while I "accidentally" step on your toes and firmly hold my belly when the train rounds sharp corners at fast speeds.

Just remember, especially you urbanized post-feminists in your Wall Street power suits who are quick to pass judgment on us preggos just because we want to be able to sit down, when you're pregnant (or when your wife, girlfriend, surrogate, bff, or whomever is in that physical state) don't come bumping into me because you're knocked up, your cankles are the size of manholes and it's sweltering outside. I'll be too busy holding onto my bundle of joy in her Baby Bjorn... while sitting.