I’ve mentioned before I have a few issues with the pregnancy and parenting books, and their glaring omissions of vital information parents not only should but need to know, preferably before doing the nasty.
Two of the things which freaked me out the most, other than the fact I WAS GROWING PEOPLE INSIDE ME, was the touching and comments from random strangers, nowhere was this mentioned.
A small chapter needs to be dedicated to teaching evasive ninja moves designed to enable pregnant women to escape the hoards of people who just “want to touch”.
I still have nightmares of manic eyed ladies, chasing me with arms outstretched yelling “I just want to rub it”
They were crazy times, and not the good crazy.
So, you pee on stick or 10 just to make sure, find out your pregnant and BOOM suddenly your body and sex life become public property, total strangers ask more probing questions than an MI5 officer asking why you’re trying to sneak into Buckingham Palace with glitter and pom poms at 3am on a Wednesday morning.
It’s as though there’s a flashing neon sign on your forehead
“I’m growing a little person inside, please feel free to ask all the inappropriate questions you like, oh and don’t forget to touch my belly, and don’t worry about washing your hands”
Apparently this sign is only visible to the weird and rude who feel no shame in asking the questions my mother, gp and best friend wouldn’t dare ask for fear of being on the receiving end of a bitch slap of epic proportions.
Nothing prepared me for just how……..invasive people, especially strangers would be.
I was expecting to lose all dignity during their birth, is there really a dignified way to remove two people from inside you, no…….. no there isn’t.
I was not expecting to discuss my fertility, relationship status, position I got knocked up in, boobs, opinion on selective abortion yada yada yada with anyone, in hindsight I could have had some real fun answering those questions.
There should be flash cards or something expectant parents can refer to, or better yet hand out to strangers to prevent those awkward questions.
Where inappropriate comments were, touching was sure to follow.
If I was to walk up to a stranger, give them a manic grin, place a hand on them and start rubbing, I would most likely get a slap and if I continued, a free journey in a shiny car with blue and white lights to the local cop shop.
Because surprisingly enough in normal society, randomly touching people without their permission is frowned upon, shocking isn’t it?!
Unless of course they are pregnant then touch away, give that tummy a little rub, you know you want to!
It didn’t matter if I was in the office, on a train, walking down the road or doing my shopping; my body and pregnancy were fair game for commenting and touching.
Last on my bitch list for today, the urban myth that pregnant women glow.
I can not believe that I fell for this, I mean really, what if anything about growing 2 people would make a person glow?
Being pregnant with twins I should have been glowing like the Millennium Dome on New Years Eve 1999, my dazzling glow visible from space. But no, the only glow I had was from the beads of sweat on my forehead after spending 10 minutes trying to leaver myself out of a chair or walking from the station to home.
I had a waddle to rival Pingu, my breathing so ravaged by my lungs being compressed I could have made a fortune as a dirty phone call maker, my boobs were epic and my bras a testament to progress in engineering and my hair frizzed out in a style similar to Michael Jackson the early years.
A Boden style mother to be I was not, I’m still hoping for the glowing part of pregnancy to kick in, and yes I know my kids are 4 and I’m not pregnant but damn it, I want to glow!