You’re not fat, you’re pregnant
There are two ways it can go when you’re hugely pregnant.
You can feel like an ultra-feminine goddess. Never have you been more confident in your body!
Or you can feel like a dugong.
There’s really no in-between.
And it’s not like anyone will let you forget it. Pregnancy is like that big pimple on your face everyone insists on pointing out. You know it’s there, you own a mirror, but people can’t help but tell you what you look like. Just in case you hadn’t realised there was a HUMAN BEING inside your body. Every step you take is another reminder of how very large you are, so there’s really no need for everyone to point, stare and laugh.
But people see a pregnant woman and their normal sense of what is and isn’t appropriate to say flies out the window.
Some women will be able to laugh it off, but some (most) women don’t enjoy being told they’re fat (shock), even if it’s a ‘lighthearted’ joke. Not because they’re sensitive, but because they’re dealing with a rapidly changing body they don’t even recognise anymore, and that can be confronting.
That ‘lighthearted’ joke doesn’t sound so funny when you feel like a freak show and you’ve realised your body will NEVER be the same. Even if you lose every last kilo, your boobs will change, those stretch marks will never completely disappear, your pelvic floor will be a constant, faulty reminder. You’ve only just realised you wasted years worrying about your body when you should have been strutting around 24/7 in hotpants because everything was SO tight and young.
But if your belly is teeny, people will carry on like there’s something wrong with you or your baby, and it can make you feel worried and stressed, like you’ve failed before you’ve even begun.
Sometimes the comments from people are easier to deal with when you’ve got a few comebacks ready to go.
If you are genuinely upset, you can always try, ‘I find that really hurtful’ because it’s terribly effective in shutting people down.
My preferred technique, however, is to smile (genuinely) and to say thank you. ‘Oh, I’m enormous? THANK YOU SO MUCH! I feel like a million bucks!’
Some other suggestions:
You sure you’re not having twins?
Jinx! I was just about to say the same thing to you!
Jeez, you got huge!
I see you’re loving being the skinny one for a change. Good for you!
You must be due any minute!
True, true … maybe you should take a step back before my waters break all over your cheap shoes.
Somebody call SeaWorld—we’ve got a beached whale here!
Yeah, and I’m a killer whale, so be quiet before I eat you.
Hello, fatty!
Eat a penis, mate.
Here’s the thing, though: there may well come a time when you stare down at your enormous belly and realise how very much you love it. It’s like a beautiful signpost telling people to treat you like bone china. People will part like the Red Sea when they see you coming and you might even start to enjoy everyone making a fuss over you.
And if anyone DOESN’T treat you like the goddess you are, like that jizz stain who won’t offer you his seat on the bus? Well you might find you suddenly have the confidence to walk up, stick that glorious belly right in his face and let it gently nudge his forehead with every sway of the bus.
There’s also this thing where people will touch your belly. It’s not exactly clear why they do this. It’s usually elderly people, and I think they’re hoping the miracle of life will rub off on their hands. Which is all well and good, but DON’T TOUCH ME, STRANGE LADY AT THE CHECK-OUT.
You could slap their hand away, you could ask them to stop, you could give them a death stare, but by far the most effective method is to rub their stomach back.
You have no idea how many bellies I rubbed during my pregnancies. It’s funny how offended people are when you touch their un-pregnant stomach. Like, why would you touch me right now? Oh, I don’t know, because you’re touching me?
See how that works?