I sat down in one of the closest seats to the bus driver, near the shelf on which I had placed my heavy backpack. He sat several seats away from me, across the way, perpidicularly (if you'll allow me to make up a word). Yet he spoke loudly enough for me to hear as he pointed at my belly.
"When you done?" he queried.
The finger point helped me discern the meaning of his question and I said "I'm due December 4th."
"I bet you can't wait."
"Well, actually I just started a doctoral program and I have A LOT of work to get done, hopefully before the baby arrives, so, actually, yes, I can wait."
"This your first?"
He raised his eyebrows. "Don't panic."
"I'm not panicking," I replied, "I feel good about what's coming. I'm hoping for a home birth." O.K., didn't need to share that, but... it just came out.
"No drugs?!" He replied. He rolled his eyes. "Just you wait, you'll change your mind as soon as you feel that first pain."
"We'll see," I said.
I believe he elaborated on the horrors of birth a bit longer for me and then he turned to his seatmate and started telling the story of how someone in his life gave birth in a car. I turned my attention elsewhere.
I relayed this to Kevin when he got home. To which he replied, "Like he knows from experience or something, sheesh."