Resignation

Once, when my sister was very pregnant with my niece, she drove to the Sears store in South Seattle.  She parked and turned off the motor.  Gathering her purse and taking one last look at her lipsticked lips in the rear view mirror, she decided she was ready to go out and meet the world even if she felt like "Two Ton Tilly."  She patted her sweaty brow and neck with a tiny white hanky. "Whew, it's hot in August."

Opening the door, it rests lightly, but firmly, against the door of the red Fury parked next to her, without room enough to slide her enlarged self out.  Turning sideways, she takes a deep breath, tucks her tummy in and PUSH..... Turning more sideways, wriggle.... no way. She just cannot get out that side. She starts to laugh (a bit hysterically) as she jiggles her weight back into the driver's seat.  Imagine. This has never happened to my slim sister. Never in her life has she had to glance around the bus for a seat big enough to hold her, maybe one next to a child or a skinny person. Never has she had to sit at the end of a table in a restaurant, because she cannot fit in the booth.  So this is a new experience. She is in a state of hugeness that traps her in the driver's seat of her own car. 

But no!  She'll just squirm inch by inch across the seat and get out the passenger's side.  In the middle she double checks her face in the mirror. Hmmm....looks a bit tense but the lipstick is still bright and she smiles at her predicament and thinks again of the diapers and baby nightgowns on sale.

Reaching the other side of the seat, she's breathing heavily. She leans back. Out comes the tiny white hanky again. It's rather damp now but she dabs her neck and forehead again.

OK. Purse over her arm, she opens the door... which comes firmly to rest against a big blue Chevy truck.  She looks up into the face of a man sitting in the truck, smiling down at her.  He has just turned off his engine.  She shuts her door.  Out he bounds, locks his door and quickly heads for the tool department, which, she presumes, also promises a sale.

When my sister believes that the jerk is truly out of view of her trap, she tries again at the exit.  The door simply will NOT open any further.  Her pregnant self will not become any smaller.  Push, tug, wriggle, squirm as she might, she is stuck.  

As the story of Pooh Bear trapped in Rabbit's doorway, flashes across her mind, she begins to cry.  This is no longer funny.  Her defenses are shot.  She is now caring nothing for how her face looks.  Forget the sale.  She just wants to get out of here and get home where she can feel fat in peace.  It occurs to her that she will never again be able to hide the fact that she has a child. From this day forward she is a Mother. 'Til death do us part and beyond.   The lacy white cotton hanky has one dry corner left to sweep away enough tears to make driving a possibility.  Home she goes.