22 weeks, 5 days/20 weeks, 6 days*

For people watchers, the tube can be an interesting place.  So many true personalities come out in the people that travel on it.  Chivalrous men, bitchy women, the great unwashed; they’re all mingled together in a small space, trying not to interact. 

Of course when you’re pregnant, you get to see a whole different side of those people.  Sometimes it’s good.  And sometimes it’s bad.

One of the first things I did when I got pregnant was grabbed me a baby on board badge from TFL.  People might not notice my bump in the beginning (or at the end, for that matter) but surely a badge would help along the way.  That badge is now carefully pinned on my bag but I’m not the type to make a fuss (not yet anyway) and I don’t exactly go flashing it in people’s faces.

You quickly notice the type of people that will voluntarily give up their seat. 

Men and women in suits keep their butts firmly in those chairs once they’ve sat down.  It must be something about the “I wear a suit to work therefore I must be important and I need this seat” feeling that accompanies said suit.  Teenagers and those in their early 20s are just as bad too.

It’s the middle aged men and women who seem to be the most generous with seating.  They’ll happily jump up and insist you sit down.  I’ve even seen the elderly offer their seat, although I could never in good conscience accept.  If anything though, it does encourage someone less needy to offer their seat. 

Then, of course, there’s the ones who just dont’ give a damn.   Like the man the other day who got on the train, saw me heading for the last available seat, took a good look at my bump and then found an injection of speed to help him get to that seat first.  Or the woman in the priority seat who stared directly at my bump (and the badge on the bag hovering next to it) for four stops but didn’t bat an eyelid when a man mid-way down the carriage offered me his seat (only for the people either standing side of him to refuse to move to allow the exchange to take place).

But best of all was the other morning.  I got on the train and grabbed the last seat in the area I’d boarded.  Only when sitting down did I realise why no-one had grabbed that seat before me.  Sitting next to me was a young man, probably in his late teens or early 20s.  He’d already broken rule number 7; his music was so loud even I could sing along and still hear the lyrics perfectly.  He had his legs spread well beyond the boundaries of the seat (I know it’s difficult for you men to bring your knees together when sitting, but it is at least polite to try) and a viciously bent elbow hanging well over the seat rest.  He made a great show of disgruntlement as I sat down and unsurprisingly knocked said elbow and then proceeded to jab it into my side.  Well all I can say is don’t anger mama bear, she will protect her cub, regardless of whether it’s in or out of her belly.  I wedged my arm down by my side to use as a shield from that elbow and there was more noise.  When he later wanted to move that elbow (further into my side) there was noise that half the carriage could hear.  But my arm wouldn’t budge from my side; it only takes one little early on scare to make this mama bear very protective. 

Needless to say, my refusal to move didn’t stop this guy from trying.  But, in a battle of wills, my dad taught me well.  Never give up, never give in.  After all, I’m pregnant.  I deserve that seat more than you*.

*but still haven’t gotten to the stage where I’ll actually go ahead and ask you to give it up.