The other day, prior to my departure, I made it a point to still get my walk on.

Granted, I had to use Maman’s fitness center and I’m not a big fan of treadmills {boring!}, but it was going to accomplish the goal at hand. That’s all I cared about.

I was close to 30 minutes going strong when a girl my age walked in with her adorable baby boy, showing him the room and I caught a few phrases every now and then along the lines of, no fun for you here and you’ll be so bored. I agreed with that one.

She left and a few minutes later came back sans baby and hopped on the treadmill next to me. Where she proceeded to talk to me non stop. Seriously, non stop.

First, I was amazed at her friendliness. Could I ever be that friendly while working out? Probably not, but that’s okay. Because I’m pregnant and omg, do you know how hard it is to talk and walk on a treadmill at the same time while preg?!

I think it’s due to the head tilt issue. You have to turn your head sideways or at a tilt to carry on a conversation and that’s actually really challenging for my balance when I’m walking at a 6.0 incline.

Our entire conversation started because I heard literally a shriek come out of her mouth, followed by, oh my GAWD! YOU ARE PREGNANT!

I wasn’t sure if it was a statement or question, but looking down, ain’t no way this bump can be mistaken now. Since I was so out of breath, I smiled and nodded.

Then proceeded to be bombarded for the next 25 minutes with the words, just so excited.

Just so excited about me being pregnant. My baby. My workout routine. Buying baby gear. Pregnancy. You name it, it was met with such enthusiasm and excitement that I felt incredibly uncomfortable.

I mean, what the hell do you say to someone who says, isn’t it JUST SO EXCITING being pregnant! Isn’t it JUST THE BEST EVER!

People, I can’t lie. I can’t. I tried to meet her level of just so excitedness but all I could muster was, um, well, I think I’m getting there. And many a skeptic, really in response to all this baby excitement.

I felt like the odd one out. The one who no one wants to pick to be on their dodgeball team. That was me. There was only one of her, but with her energy, it felt like I was surrounded from every possible angle.

I want to be that excited, I do. I admired that about her. Part of me wonders if I’m not because I’m trying to protect myself, or I’m scared, or feel guilty because I just want it all to be over, or I’m just straight up still trying to accept and wrap my mind around me as a mother. I think I’ll go with a little bit of everything.

In my new found practice of being gentler with myself, I’m finally listening to Higher Self who promises me that it’s okay. Just because I’m not super duper over the moon excited doesn’t mean there is something inherently wrong with me.

Higher Self, however, hasn’t promised that that doesn’t come off looking weird. But hey. I’m learning to like being the odd one out. Because I think there’s more women who do feel the way I feel and maybe we can all feel a little less alone — and weird — together.