Ah, pregnancy—such a beautiful, magical time. It’s when your ankles swell to the size of melons and complete strangers feel the need to comment on your uterus. Here are just a few of the most irritating things people have said to me in the last six months, in no particular order.
“Were you trying?” With my closest girlfriends, this is fair game. With the random lady at the maternity store? Um, no. The best way to respond to this question is to go into graphic detail about your sex life—now who’s uncomfortable?
“What are you, six months?” Nope, not yet. But this is a fun guessing game.
“No.” As in: “Excuse me, can I please have that seat?” No? OK, my giant belly and I will just stand awkwardly next to you for the next 45 minutes.
“OMG, your boobs are going to get HUGE.” Thanks, I was already feeling super excited about my expanding body and this just makes me feel so much better.
“Are you allowed to have that?” No, I decided to take a round of antibiotics all on my own without consulting my doctor.
“Are you sure you’re allowed to eat that?” I’ve only spent approximately 100 hours Googling what I can and cannot eat but thanks for checking.
“Are you having twins?” OK, this was said to my friend, not me. But I was right next to her and dear God, why would you ever ask a pregnant woman that?
“You’re definitely having a boy/girl.” Wow, that’s so cool that you got a medical degree since the last time I saw you.
“You’re definitely going to go into labor early/late.” Oh, great, I’ll make sure to plan everything around that then—so helpful.
“Can I touch your belly?” …and then going for it without waiting for an answer. Even if you buy into the idea that there’s some sort of social or evolutional explanation for why people are drawn to bulging bellies, being pregnant doesn’t make me public property. Step away.
“You’re pregnant? I thought you’d just gained weight; I didn’t want to say anything.” Gee, thanks for sparing my feelings.
“Have some more, come on, you’re eating for two!” This gem was said to me after I politely declined a second slice of (to be honest, not very good) cake. Unless you’re my grandma, it’s not OK to force-feed me.
“Isn’t it hard to decorate the nursery and buy baby clothes when you don’t know the gender?” Nope, not at all.
“But if you don’t find out the gender, then isn’t it harder for your husband to bond with the baby?” Nope, not at all.
“Enjoy it now because you won’t be able to [fill in the blank] when the baby comes.” Apparently, once I become a parent, sleeping, going to the movies, travel and eating out are just some of the experiences that I’ll never, ever be able to have again. (Fine, there may be some truth to this one. But do you really have to remind me?)