To the Man Who Assumed I Was Expecting

home insemination Kit

That day, I was rocking one of my favorite dresses—a delightful A-line number from ModCloth adorned with pleats. My three lively kids were darting around the church garden, and I stood there, arms crossed, enjoying the mayhem. Then you, with your gravelly voice reminiscent of a late-night talk show host, approached me.

“All boys, huh?” you asked.
“Yep,” I replied. “All boys.”
“And one on the way, it looks like.”

I was momentarily frozen. “No,” I retorted, stiffly. “I’m not pregnant.”
“Oh, come on,” you replied, waving it off as if nothing had happened. But everything had changed, and I was far from expecting. I knew that the Prozac had added a few pounds, but I didn’t think my belly was that pronounced. I was even wearing Spanx!

Really? Do you not know the golden rule? Unless you are 1) the father of the baby or 2) witnessing the baby make its grand entrance, never assume a woman is pregnant. Sure, I was at a Catholic church on a random afternoon with my three stair-stepped kids, so perhaps your assumption was understandable. But stereotypes are just that—assumptions that can make an ass out of you.

What’s even more appalling is that you felt entitled to judge my body based on your perception. Do you have any idea how I feel about those extra pounds from medication? Not great, to put it lightly. I strive to embrace body positivity and tell myself I look stunning at any size. That’s why I wear cute dresses! When you mistook me for pregnant, you were essentially saying I was too heavy to be simply normal. Do you realize how much I struggle with this? Your words felt like a validation of my deepest insecurities. I shed tears over it.

You have no right to scrutinize my body.

But there’s more. You thought I was pregnant. Truth be told, I wish I could be. I would give anything to be expecting again. But the reality is that pregnancy brings out hyperemesis gravidarum in me, which is no picnic. I was hospitalized during my last pregnancy, grappling with diabetes and dangerously low iron levels. The first three months were spent in bed, and it’s only gotten tougher with each child. There’s no way I could manage three kiddos and a pregnancy at the same time. My youngest is my last biological baby, and that realization weighs heavily on me. When you mistook me for expecting, it reopened that wound. I cried over that, too.

You have no right to make assumptions about my fertility.

I waited until my husband came home to share the news. It took a lot of effort, but I managed to tell him about the encounter, though I had already changed out of that dress. “Oh, you don’t look pregnant,” he said. “That dress just has a front pleat. It makes whatever’s underneath look larger.”

Friends tell me I’m beautiful. They call you an idiot for your comment, insisting I look great and that you had no right to say that to me. My husband echoes the same sentiments, assuring me that I certainly don’t look pregnant. Your careless words planted seeds of doubt in my mind, reinforcing my worst fears about my body. You practically screamed that I’m fat and therefore unattractive. You implied there’s something wrong with my appearance.

But there isn’t. I look fabulous. So what if I’ve gained a few curves? I admire curvy girls and think they’re beautiful. The only thing wrong with my body? Your judgmental gaze. You should know better than to assume anything about someone else. Take your assumptions and shove them. I’ll still wear that dress with pride.

I refuse to let your words define my body image. I’m reclaiming that control; it’s mine. And yes, I’m still going to flaunt that dress.

If you’re interested in navigating your own fertility journey, you may find it helpful to connect with resources like Intracervical Insemination or check out Healthline for excellent information on pregnancy and home insemination. And for those looking for tools to assist in conception, Make A Mom is a fantastic authority on the subject.

Summary:

A woman shares her experience of being mistakenly assumed to be pregnant by a stranger, addressing the emotional toll of such assumptions and the societal pressures related to body image and fertility. She emphasizes the importance of self-acceptance, the right to control her body narrative, and the impact of unsolicited judgments on personal confidence.