Maybe it's because my face seems to be getting fatter, or because I have an unconfirmed suspicion that I've gained four or more pounds in the last week - a suspicion that I do not plan to confirm by getting on a scale - but, recently, all of the little things people say to pregnant women are driving me ever closer to rage. Oftentimes, these comments come while I'm walking down the hallway at work. Luckily, I've been able to duck in to the kitchen or bathroom and avoid any physical altercations. I'm worried, though, about what might happen if a commenter nabs me in a wide open space, without available detours.
Here are a few recent highlights:
"You just keep on getting bigger and bigger!" Ummm, yes, thank you. That's how pregnancy works. The baby grows; the person carrying the baby inside of her grows. I know this comment doesn't seem that bad but, to a hormonal pregnant woman who just ate 3/4 of a burrito the size of her head, these are fighting words. Lucky for the commenter, I had already thrown away the rest of the burrito, and so I was not able to throw it at her head, as I wanted to.
"You've got that waddle going on." Imagine this said while laughing and doing an exaggerated, wide, lumbering step. Hilarious, I tell you. Maybe, in three months, when I'm no longer pregnant and apparently waddling, I, too, will see the humor in this. Now, I'm too achy to find much of anything about my body funny. I just feel thankful that I'm still able to drag one foot in front of the other.
"You look like you're about to burst. You must be due in, what, a week or two?" Note that a doctor said this. Not an OB-GYN or my doctor, but a person I know who happens to be a doctor. I've got about five and a half weeks to go. I'm measuring right on target for my due date. I can't even imagine what people, apparently including medical professionals, would say about my size if I were carrying twins, or past my due date.
These were all made in the past week, and don't include comments made about drinking coffee (actually, it was hot chocolate from a coffee place), working out, eating spicy food, how much weight I've gained or should gain, and on and on. Perhaps this means I have reached a time in my pregnancy when I should either stay inside, or wear a sign that says, "I'm cranky and I don't want to hear it." I don't comment on people's bodies or walks; I avoid walking up to people and saying, "Wow, you're HUGE." It just seems a tad rude, and it doesn't suddenly become okay just because someone is with child.
I've had fantasies in which I had great comebacks - like, "Well, at least I'll be smaller in a few months." Or, "And how much weight have you gained in the last nine months? Looks like you're trying to keep up with me." "That's funny - you don't look like you have a uterus. Did your doctor tell you not to drink coffee while you were pregnant? And when was that, Mr. Smith?" Yeah, those aren't so clever. Clearly I have some weaknesses in the snappy comeback department. But even if I could think of fabulous verbal smackdowns, even with raging hormones I can't quite bring myself to say any of these things, except to my husband. Sean knows enough to stick to telling me I look good, but he still has to put up with my can-you-believe-this-guy rants.
This leads me to the most important rule for dealing with pregnant women, one that I'm not sure I always followed as well as I could have before this point: tell them they look beautiful, or keep your mouth shut.
If you just can't lie and tell me that pregnancy becomes me (as one slightly drunk friend said), or that I look great (as our remodeler says every time he sees me, with lots of enthusiasm), then don't say anything at all. Nobody wants to hear it. I can make fun of my own walrus-like shape, or make jokes about the amount of times I burp in a day, but I don't need them from anyone else. Hopefully, I'll become a little more tolerant, patient, and less prickly once my back stops hurting and I can breathe fully and eat a whole meal in one sitting. But, for now, I'd like the chatty folks to know that keeping their mouths shut might save them from having a partially-eaten burrito thrown at their heads.