Myth #19 It’s OK to comment on Women’s bodies if you think they’re pregnant
Myth #20 Your unsolicited advice is helpful
“I love your shoes!” I said to Random Lady at the park.
“Yes, they’re lovely aren’t they? First thing I’ve bought myself in years.” Random lady at the park said.
“Oh that is such a lovely dress you have on there! And are you expecting?” She said with delight in her eyes. Her delight turned to concern, “Cos if you are…” she motioned to my bike, as if riding a bike was a terrible idea if I was expecting.
“Ha, no. Yes, this dress is one of my favourites! It’s just very… billowy.” The wind caught my skirts and danced them around my knees.
She returned her bike to the bike hire place, and came over to me a moment later – mortified.
“I’m so sorry, I always say the wrong thing. Your dress is lovely, and your skin is just luminous! You don’t even look pregnant! I don’t know what I was thinking!” She regaled me with stories of her daughters, and how beautiful they were, and how body positive, even though (unlike her) they were tall and muscular, fuller figured.
“I think it’s actually easier to dress well when you have a few curves. Trying to dress a skinny body with all it’s bones sticking out. Well, it’s very difficult to look good.” Interesting perspective. Not a problem I’ve ever encountered.
The more I learn about others, the more I think everyone struggles to find clothes in some ways. Short legs. Big thighs. Broad back. Narrow hips. Long torso. Everyone’s got something.
We discussed eating disorders, and how they were pervasive in Ireland, particularly in girls’ schools. Walking the streets of Dublin, you’d be forgiven for thinking some weren’t much past the 1840s famine.
“You are just beautiful!” She gushed as we parted.
Well, knock me down with a feather.
17 kgs down, and I’m STILL being asked if I’m pregnant by perfect strangers. I know it seems like everyone is having babies this year, but it is not actually everyone.
I’ve been asked this question countless times. The answer has never been yes. Usually by children. I can forgive them that, but it still smarts.
I’ve taken to creating a bank of quips to fire back. ‘Yes, this is my food baby’, ‘No, that’s just the naughty children I ate yesterday’, ‘That’s where the alien lives.’
Kids are so amazingly clueless that it might be an inappropriate question. Kids love babies. They just want people to have more babies!
I then try to explain to them sometimes when people get fat, it just looks like that, and it’s not a very nice question to be asking, because it might make people sad. The six year olds look a little mystified, but they usually take my word for it.
It’s a little harder to answer adults, usually women, about these questions though. ‘No, just fat, thanks for asking.’
I was complaining about this most recent incident to Jared and he said ‘Why don’t you try something like “We’ve just had 6 miscarriages, and I don’t really want to talk about it.” That ought to shut them up.’ He paused for a moment, then said ‘Or what about “Yes, and I’m just on my way to the abortion appointment”?’ I mean yes, it probably would shut the would-be well-wisher up. But I would like to speak to most of these people again.
I would infinitely prefer not to be asked in the first place.
Everyone loves babies. Everyone is just hoping for more babies. I get it. Few spare any thoughts for the humans that happen to carry those babies and the physical and emotional complications that that entails.
Something seems to happen to women’s bodies when they’re carrying another life. Instead of being seen as a functional whole human, women become merely a vessel for another, and their bodies become public property. Friends have told me of the advice given by perfect strangers at shops to buy this thing or avoid this other thing, or of random strangers coming up and touching their stomachs without so much as asking.
Women’s bodies aren’t public property, nor should they be conversation pieces.
Best case scenario: You get to wish someone congratulations, about information that you heretofore weren’t privy to.
Worst case scenario: You are reminding someone their body isn’t the ‘right’ shape, of the child they lost, or the child they can’t have.
Where is the win for either person in this conversation?
And what’s the follow up question? What position did conception occur in? At its core, it is an incredibly intimate question.
You could reframe the question to ‘How’s your sex life?’ or ‘What is the latest with your vagina?’
Which other organs would you like to know about? My spleen feels very left out.
Every time this happens I spare a thought for anyone going through any version of fertility difficulties, anyone who just had an abortion, anyone whose had a miscarriage, a stillbirth, or lost a child. Anyone who’s had a baby ages ago, and now their body now just looks like that.
What business is it of yours?
None.
Further reading:
Much the same article about socially inappropriate questions
It’s not just me that is mortified by this question
Pregnant bodies are not public bodies, as this article rightly points out. There’s also a cheatsheet of responses that you can use should you be asked this question.