Buy me Some Peanuts and Cracker Jacks

Written July 19, 2010 So I feel like I might have just spent the weekend in a time machine. I played out the last of my own personal ball season... not because I'm ready to stop playing at all- or because I'm too pregnant or too hot or too big-- because I've realized I'm too sensitive. My "alone time" team (aka the team I play on without Jay or Abby) had its final tournament this weekend.. I was the "coloured" person drinking from the wrong fountain and pissing in the wrong bathroom. I stood up to bat to be bantered with comments like, "hey strike this one out- she counts for two outs" I stepped out of the box to politely ask what was meant by such a comment- and then I promptly struck out... in slo pitch. I was privy to many a "YOU"RE CRAZY" or "WHAT IF SOMETHING HAPPENS comment that I just stopped responding (attempting to point out that every time I move or leave the house I am in some kind of danger) A former teammate also told me, "with all due respect- you're asking to be mistreated- look at you" and then he continued to imitate me saying in a high pitched whiny voice (since we all know that's how I talk) that if I didn't get to play I'd sue the city. No such words ever exited my lips- though I wouldn't have hesitated for a second to file a human rights complaint. I bumped into an old friend from highschool who discovered that I was the pregnant women "everyone" in the league was talking about. In a place where I usually feel so comfortable I felt like an outsider being shunned... sneaking off into the bathroom to shed a few tears with dignity and then hiding behind my sunglasses. I've put up with muttered comments by people on my very own team- I can see if I was standing out there knitting fucking baby booties that it may be an issue- but I can still outrun and outthrow and outplay many people-- and this underhanded, "well we worry about your baby" bullshit is done- I don't tell anyone to stop maowing on a snickers because I worry about your weight- it's not my fucking business.. I know I let this break my heart for far too long- but by far the shady comments that started at the beginning of the season have made this my worst season yet. I spend too much time feeling ashamed to be me- someone who in the past I feel like I should be proud of- questioning my ability to mother this baby because I supposedly put him in harms way-- when I've admitted to five different doctors that I've still been playing ball twice a week and not one of them even blinked an ounce of concern... Maybe now that this is over for me... we can name the baby- buy a stroller and paint the kids' room.. maybe in a few days I'll shake off the weekend and the season as though it never happened.. maybe I'll even consider going back... though pretending to be okay with people's comments and judgements is very challenging- I know I'm letting it suck too much of my energy. It's at times like this when I wonder how I would deal with the world if I wasn't a blond haired. green eyed caucasian woman... I'm hoping this will open my eyes to my own stereotyping and discriminating thoughts- In our world it's very difficult to be 100% PC- but I also believe in my hurt little heart, that very few people even TRY to be politically correct.. Playing out this season has helped me rediscover trust in my body after my miscarriage- I am healthier than my last pregnancy and experience far less discomfort (okay- well I have MAJOR heartburn). I am thankful for the handful of people who supported me and continued to love me through my "bad mother" choices... I am strong and sturdy and if I'm able to carry a human life- I'm able to catch and throw a ball- and if you're that concerned about my well being then why don't you offer to just hold the door open for me as I struggle through with a toddler and 7 bags of groceries.