The Wordsmythe's Weblog…

…On Words, Love and Life

Be nice to pregnant women!

Her body is expanding daily and finding clothes that fit and match, without making her look like a sack of potatoes, is increasingly becoming something akin to juggling six balls in one hand. Her skin is stretching tighter than a drum by the day, with the brush strokes of stretch marks etched all over like a child’s canvas.

Her hormones are raging and mood swings become the norm rather than the exception. She cries at the drop of a hat one minute, and laughs hysterically, the next. Smells of anything from food to perfume send her to the bathroom retching out her guts. The simple act of brushing her teeth is enough to bring up the bile from her innards. She suffers a myriad of medical conditions including heartburn, varicose veins, constipation, incontinence, anaemia, carpal tunnel syndrome, high blood pressure and bleeding gums.

Her centre of balance is almost non-existent and she is slowly but surely losing every ounce of momentum that she once took for granted. Tasks as simple as bending or getting off a chair take her thrice as long and require such manipulation of limbs that any contortionist would envy.

Her nose may double in size, her feet, ankles now ‘cankles’ and hands sometimes swell and every time she brushes her hair, she wonders if the Lord is truly keeping count as the hair on her brush seem to outnumber the hair on her head. She has cravings that range in weirdness from sniffing petrol fumes to eating carrots and chocolate together. She may have an irresistible urge to stuff her face 24/7 or totally go off food.

The very thought of standing on the weight scale gives her the heebie-jeebies as the needle never seems to come to a rest and when it does, it reveals weight gains she never imagined possible. She feels bloated.

Finding a comfortable position to sleep in at night is an exercise in futility as no sooner than she does, the little one decides it is time to practice calisthenics on her already full bladder. If she is lucky enough to doze off uninterrupted by the call of nature, she may be woken up at some point by leg cramps or some other malaise.

All of the above, and too many more to mention, are the some of the things that a pregnant woman has to deal with in varying degrees for 40 odd weeks. As much as pregnancy is a wonderful thing, it can also bring with it some pain, discomfort and major readjustment.

Comments like “you’re a bit big, aren’t you?”, “are you sure it’s not twins?”, “your bump is rather tiny”, etc are not very smart and go a long way to eroding her already shaken self-confidence. She knows you mean well but hearing these comments time and time again can do more damage than good.

So the next time you are tempted to state the obvious when you see a burgeoning tummy, resist! She’s got eyes. She can see everything you see when she looks in the mirror and she doesn’t need you confirming what she already knows and can do nothing about. The next time you are wont to share from the deep wells of your wisdom and extensive knowledge of pregnancy, don’t! Every woman is unique; each pregnancy, different. One size doesn’t fit all.

And please, refrain from sharing the gory details of your or someone else’s horrific pregnancy/birth story. She doesn’t need to be further scared by anything you have to say, her imagination is doing a good enough job without your help. If you have nothing positive or complimentary to say, then mum should be the word.

Do not, I repeat, do not rub her tummy! How would you feel if a perfect stranger (or even someone you knew, for that matter) walked up to you and groped your tummy? Admire the bump, but do not touch it! Don’t say I didn’t warn you!

Instead give up your seat for her on the bus, tube, in church, at a party or wherever you see her. Compliment her on the new glow she has acquired, her dressing and whatever else you can think of. Express admiration for the noble job she is doing of bearing the next generation. Commend her for going through what may be a particularly difficult time with dignity. Inquire about her welfare and listen to what she has to say without interrupting.

She is bearing a heavy load and remember, the Bible admonishes us to “bear one another’s burdens.”

Thanks for stopping by and tara for now.

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12 thoughts on “Be nice to pregnant women!

  1. LOL. You just reminded me of all the reasons I’m not going to have no 3. Especially having to get on a crowded tube with my bump. Well written.

  2. Globetrotter on said:

    Wordsmythe,
    Very well written. Very descriptive. Funny how easy it is to forget all that you’ve mentioned, when boredom sets in and you think ‘Hmmm, should I try one last time…?’

  3. Oh boy, thanks fir the head-up. I actually tot some of them loved their bellies being rubbbed, but of course, by known people,not strangers…
    So those are the things i need to contend with while pregnant yeah?I am taking a rain check!

    • @ HoneyDame, this is not everyone’s experience. Some women sail through pregnancy with no adverse effects but unfortunately some have all of the above and more. However the end product more than makes up for it so please don’t take a rain check 😮

  4. Great read; good for laughs, but very true! I sometimes do wish women didnt need to go through pregnancy could buy babies from Sainsburys, Asda, Tesco or Argos. I’d simply walk in, looking sharpish, and pick two (the already toilet-trained, well-mannered variety) off the shelf. Two-for-the-price-of-one, mind you, cos I do so love a good bargain! As always, well written Wordsmythe!

  5. I agree. Pregnant women should be well cared for. Also, touching or rubbing the tummy of a pregnant women (by a stranger) is not not an appropriate thing to do.

    Pregnancy is a very sweet and fulfilling experience. I pray that God Almighty will answer the prayers of all women who are praying to experience this (pregnancy) and eventually have/carry their babies.

  6. Ore mi. You have left out waking up in the middle of the night for no reason whatsoever, and staring into space as the minutes tick away. Slowly. Till dawn breaks. And then hauling one’s sleep deprived body out of bed, feeling like one’s been run over by a truck. What joy! Thank God for our children, they make it all worthwhile.

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