Please Refrain from Commenting on My Pregnant Belly: It’s Truly Heartbreaking

home insemination Kit

Hey there, person behind the pharmacy counter,

I’m sure your intentions were good when you asked about my due date. It seems like everyone’s curious these days, and honestly, I can’t blame them—I look like I’m smuggling a beach ball at 25 1/2 weeks pregnant. But here’s the thing: while I totally understand the fascination with growing bellies (being a doula for six years has made me a belly enthusiast), I’ve learned that there are some lines that shouldn’t be crossed.

When I see a pregnant woman, I might smile in her direction or even give a little nod, but I never pry. And now, as a pregnant woman myself, I’ve come to avoid commenting on others’ bodies. The reason? You just never know.

So, when you asked me about my due date, my heart raced. It’s been a whirlwind of similar questions over the last several weeks, and I’m never quite sure how to respond. When someone says, “You must be ready to pop!” I just smile and nod along. But when you inquired directly about my due date, I felt the tension rise. I replied, “December,” and your surprised expression made me reconsider my honesty. Should I have said September instead? Or even October? But why should I have to bend the truth for your comfort?

Then, as if the universe wanted to test me further, a guy next to me—turns out he’s a doctor—chimed in with a chuckle, “Triplets?!” My heart sank even lower. I’ve dealt with “Is it twins?” comments before, but triplets hit differently. I felt so diminished. It was like a punch to the gut, reminding me, yet again, that I’m carrying two babies who are no longer with me.

I know there’s no way you could have known the loss I’ve experienced. But that’s exactly why such questions should be avoided. You never really know who might be grieving, who has faced a miscarriage, or who is navigating complicated emotions while pregnant. So, I urge you—please don’t comment on a woman’s size or ask when she’s due. It can lead to painful reminders.

That day in the pharmacy, I left feeling defeated, burdened by the weight of my grief. Your innocent questions hit harder than you might realize. I wanted to share my story, to open up about my lost children, but I held back, fearing it would make you uncomfortable. Instead, I just said, “No,” and walked away.

I hope, for a moment, you reflect on whether your comments crossed a line. Maybe you’ll carry this lesson with you, just as I carry the memory of my three precious babies.

For more insights on pregnancy and home insemination, check out this resource, and if you’re curious about how to navigate self-insemination, this post is a great authority on the topic. And if you’re interested in home insemination techniques, visit this link for further information.

Summary:

This article reflects on the emotional toll of unsolicited comments about a pregnant woman’s belly, particularly in light of personal loss. It emphasizes the importance of understanding boundaries and being sensitive to the struggles that may lie beneath the surface.