Hey there, cashier at the pharmacy,
I know you meant well when you asked about my due date. Lately, I’ve been fielding that question more often than I’d like, especially at 25 weeks along. It’s no secret that my belly has grown quite a bit for a first-time pregnancy. I get it; curiosity about a growing baby bump is natural. As a doula for the past six years, I’ve always been drawn to pregnant women and love to celebrate their journeys. Yet, I’ve learned the importance of respecting personal boundaries, something that often goes unrecognized in casual conversations.
So, when you asked me when my little one is arriving, my heart started racing. The past several weeks have been filled with similar inquiries from eager faces. I often find myself unsure of how to respond. When someone casually remarks, “Any day now!” or “You’re almost there!” I usually just smile and nod. However, when you asked for my due date, I noticed my body tensed up. I replied, “December,” but your reaction made me reconsider if I should have said something different—perhaps September or even October. But why should I have to lie to make someone else comfortable?
Then, things took a turn for the worse. You, the man next to me who turned out to be a physician, jokingly asked, “Triplets?” My heart sank. I’ve faced comments about twins before, which sting, but this was different. The weight of your words hit me hard. It felt as if someone had knocked the breath out of me. The truth is, I carry the pain of losing two babies, and each comment about my size serves as a painful reminder of my loss.
I understand you didn’t mean to hurt me; how could you have known about my journey? But that’s the point—when it comes to pregnancy, you never know what someone else is going through. You can’t tell who has experienced a miscarriage or who might be carrying a child that isn’t going to survive. It’s essential to tread lightly, especially with comments about due dates or the size of a pregnant woman’s belly.
After your questions, I left the pharmacy feeling defeated, reminded of my losses. I wanted to share my story, to explain why your words stung, but I held back, fearing it would make you uncomfortable. Perhaps you left thinking I was unfriendly, but I hope you pondered for a moment on how your words might impact others.
As a community, we need to be more mindful. If you’re interested in learning more about the emotional aspects of pregnancy and loss, check out this insightful article on intracervicalinsemination.com. Resources like womenshealth.gov can also provide valuable information.
In the end, it’s important to remember that every woman’s journey is unique. Let’s celebrate the joy of pregnancy while also being compassionate to those who may be silently suffering.