No. 28: When You See Yourself

the little green car that changed it all for me + your perfect menu for this week

Before we begin, as a reminder I don’t send out the bi-weekly podcast to your inboxes to respect those of you who aren’t ready to see pregnancy specific topics in your emails every week. For those of you, however, wanting a true deep dive into the wild and wonderful world of these last 6 months for me, be sure to see all the podcast episodes here. This week’s episode dives into the very end of my first trimester, what it was like to surprise O’s family with the news and the most challenging symptoms and experiences thus far.

Okay—let’s dive into today’s letter.

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A few weeks back, a man in a lime green SUV was riding my tail for no less than 15 minutes. Like sir, pick a different lane, you know? I’m no snail on the road so for someone to be tailgating me makes me assume one of three things: 1. a woman is giving birth in the back seat (or about to) 2. they had bad taco bell and are praying to make it to a bathroom or 3. I’m dealing with someone who believes they are a Very Important Person.

When I slowed down to safely make a right turn and check for oncoming traffic, he nearly hit me. He then honked like a New York cab driver—laying on the horn in a symphony of sorts and at the end of his tantrum, I got a rear view mirror look at his face. 

The feeling that single glance stirred up in my belly was unmistakable. Not the anger I expected to feel, not annoyance or irritation—no. What I felt was pity. Because how embarrassing, you know?

I kept an eye on this bitter wedge of lime weaving in and out of cars, speeding up and slowing down, constantly slamming on the breaks. I pictured his face behind his wheel. Sour.

And I saw myself. 

This is what I must look like when I fight for control in circumstances where I so clearly have none. While everyone else casually drives along, enjoying their music or conversation, content with the pace traffic has inevitably set that morning, this single person zooming and racing just to stop along with everyone else and progress nowhere was quite the picture. 

As the youths would say—“it me.”