I had a funny pregnancy-related incident today.
On my way home from babysitting, I took my usual R train from south Brooklyn to midtown Manhattan. Being Friday afternoon (and the rain…oh the torrential rain!) the subway filled up pretty quickly and soon, I was glad to have gotten a seat so early in the ride.
As my stop drew near, I woke up, wiped the drool from my chin, gathered the book on my lap that had collected a pint of rain water from fellow passengers’ umbrellas, stood up, and gingerly made my way to the door.
Now, you haven’t experienced commuting hell until you’ve taken a NYC subway, in rush hour, in inclimate weather. Imagine a mosh pit smack dab in the middly of July…taking place in the Amazon jungle. The heat (it doesn’t matter if it’s January – it will reach boiling point). The humidity. The crowd. The angry, cranky crowd that has managed to transform itself into one giant sweaty organism that sways along with the motion of the train.
So like I said, I gingerly made my way through the crowd to the closest door.
Or, at least I tried to.
“Gingerly” soon turned into a shoving, pushing, and squeezing match between this girl’s 5’1″ frame (okay, 5’4″ in heels) and the greater NYC crowd. However, by now I am a pro. I managed to almost make it to the door without stepping on anyone’s toes, swearing under my breath, or being on the giving or receiving end of nasty looks.
Some a-hole‘s elbow rammed into my stomach.
For all I know, it could’ve been an 80-year-old grandma who inadvertently brushed her elbow by my stomach. I didn’t see who did it, and I didn’t care.
Because right then, my super ninja monkey reflexes kicked into gear. I felt an immediate surge of adrenaline, anger, and violence at my baby’s attacker.
HOW DARE YOU LAY A HAND ON MY CHILD??!
I instinctively tapped into my knowledge of taekwondo (did you know that I am a second-degree black belt?) and snapped into a fighting stance, right then and there.
Or, at least I tried to.
In the overly crowded train, all I managed was to jump a mile high and land in an awkward, spazzy position that reminds one of a gimpy toad.
Then the train came to a stop and I was pushed outside to the platform.
As I made the long walk to my next destination, my temper began to cool down…and I couldn’t help but be amazed at my mommy instincts. For a tiny little thing that is the size of a kidney bean!
Nobody messes wit’ my baby, yo.
what are other commuters supposed to do? you’re not even showing yet, so you’re just another commuter. the tot should be fine until you’re more defined.
I don’t expect the other passengers to do anything because like you said, I’m not showing and there’s no way they would know unless I scream it out at them. 🙂 I was just remarking on how funny it is that my protective/maternal instincts have kicked in already, without my even thinking about it.
i’m building you a bubble for you so you can walk around the city bubble boy style