Everybody loves a pregnant lady.

Something I’ve discovered – maybe now that I’m so obviously pregnant or that I’ve actually realized I’m so obviously pregnant (it took a while) – is that in Israel, or maybe just Jerusalem, everybody loves a pregnant lady. 

The old guy scooping me ice cream? Big smiles and bigger scoops. “Have some more, it’s good for the baby and it’s good for you!”

The Mizrahi woman behind the deli counter? Fussing over how I will do Pesach this year and recalling her third trimester Pesachs. 

The Arab truck driver in the parking lot? Giving me a big grin as he slows down to let me walk ahead. 

The young snazzy secular dude on line at Mega? I’m carrying one item and so is he, but he lets me cut ahead of him. 

I think if I were still riding the bus as often as I used to, or going food shopping as often as I used to, or really just living in Jerusalem and being out and about like the old days, I’d be getting this more on a daily basis. But it’s kind of heartwarming to not need my guard up all the time.

Who is going to mess with a pregnant lady, after all?



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