The lovely dark-haired woman climbs slowly out of the swimming pool, trying in vain to detach the two kids from her arms and legs as they attempt to convince her to stay in and play a bit longer. As the water slides off her body and the sunlight shines on her face, she looks nowhere near her forty years of age. Her utter confidence is the only sign of her maturity.
Finally untangling herself from the grasp of the equally dark-haired children, she struts across the pool deck and flops down on the lounge chair next to her sister-in-law. Just as she settled in and starts thumbing through her copy of I Just Want to Be Alone, her sister-in-law leans over and asks, “Jill, are the three children in the pool the full extent of your family plans?” and then she looks meaningfully down at Jill’s midsection.
“Unless you want to include the bean and cheese burrito baby currently in my belly, yes, those three kids there are the only fruit coming out of my loins.”
When I was pregnant, I worried that people would think I was just fat. Now I worry that people will think I’m pregnant.
— Lynn Morrison (@NomadMomDiary) July 3, 2014
In the first few months of my own pregnancies, I was terrified that people would think that I was fat. However, I was not terrified enough to want to break my silence and share my exciting news before I was ready. For the first ten weeks, that secret was for me and my husband alone, to hold and savor and dream about without any thoughtless comments from the peanut gallery.
Now that I am most certainly *not* pregnant and definitively done having babies, I worry about the opposite. Will people look at my post-lunch bloat and start waiting for a pink or blue announcement card? I can never ever say that I’m nauseous, even if I am simply because I’ve had too many cups of coffee in the am. I sometimes change clothes several times in the morning just to try and avoid the appearance of an impending maternity leave that might derail my career….”Hmm, Lynn looks a bit round, perhaps we should give someone else the promotion.”
If you ask if I’m pregnant and I am and haven’t told you, there is probably a reason for that. And shouldn’t I be the one who gets to decide how and when to share that news? Putting me on the spot with the question is the equivalent of turning around and sharing the news on facebook before I get a chance to do so. Don’t make me, or any other pregnant lady lie to you.
If you ask and I’m not pregnant, I surely will not thank you for the reminder that I crapped out of the 30 day ab challenge on day -1. I think we can all agree that my waistbands and scale do a good enough job of alerting me to the extra pounds and no further public attention is required.
To sum it all up, in case you are completely obtuse, there is NO nice way to ask someone if they are pregnant. There is no cutesy phrasing that will make your intrusive, probing question acceptable. So shut up and keep those thoughts to yourself.
Kristen Mae of Abandoning Pretense says
AMEN!!!
AlwaysARedhead says
My husband made the mistake once of asking a woman when she was due, yep she wasn’t pregnant. He was so embarrassed and has never asked that question again.
Sarah (est. 1975) says
I made the mistake of asking my son’s PEDIATRICIAN if she was pregnant. (It wasn’t even because she was fat or “popping” or anything, it was how she kept pressing her hands against her belly.) AAAaaaand of course she wasn’t pregnant. And I think she still hates me. Never again.
Abby says
I seriously can’t believe that people still do that. First of all, it’s probably none of your business to comment on anything physical of a questionable nature. Second, if someone is pregnant and really wants you to know, they’ll probably tell you. It’s one thing to bring up “family planning” or whatever in conversation, but another to directly ask if they’re expecting. When will people learn? 😉
Sarah says
My Dad told my neighbor that the secretary at the Dr’s office was pregnant. The neighbor called to congratulate her – and she was not pregnant…