I was dressed in one of my favorite ModCloth A-line dresses that day, complete with pleats that swayed as I stood there. My kids were darting around the church garden, their laughter filling the air. Just as I was enjoying the moment, a man with a gravelly voice approached me.
“All boys, huh?” he asked, eyeing my trio of little ones.
“Yep,” I replied, a hint of pride in my voice.
“And one on the way, it looks like,” he continued, completely oblivious to the shock that coursed through me.
“No,” I managed to say, my voice stiff with disbelief. “I’m not pregnant.”
“Hit me,” he said, brushing off my discomfort and continuing the conversation as if he hadn’t just dropped a bombshell. But everything had changed. I am not pregnant. I am unequivocally not pregnant. Sure, I’ve gained some weight—thanks to the Prozac—but I didn’t think it was that noticeable. I was even wearing Spanx, for goodness’ sake.
Let’s get one thing straight, my friend: there are two cardinal rules about assuming a woman’s pregnancy status. First, you should either be the father of that baby or witness its arrival firsthand. Otherwise, keep your assumptions to yourself. I get it; I’m at a Catholic church with my three kids, all close in age. It’s easy to jump to conclusions. But stereotypes are just that—stereotypes. Assuming makes an ass out of you.
What truly irked me was your judgment based solely on my appearance. Do you know how I feel about the extra pounds I’ve gained? Not great. In fact, I feel terrible about it. I strive for body positivity; I constantly remind myself that I can look fabulous at any size. That’s why I wear dresses that I love. When you mistook me for being pregnant, you essentially told me that I looked too large to be seen as a “normal” woman. I work hard to feel good about myself, and your comment fed my insecurities. I shed tears over it.
You have no right to scrutinize my body.
There’s more to your assumption than just my appearance, though. You assumed I was pregnant when, in truth, I wish I were. I would give anything to be able to conceive again. Sadly, my experiences with hyperemesis gravidarum have been grueling. During my last pregnancy, I was hospitalized with diabetes and dangerously low iron levels. The first three months were spent in bed, and it has only gotten worse with each pregnancy. Juggling three children and a new pregnancy is simply not feasible. My youngest is my last biological child, and that reality weighs heavily on me. When you assumed I was expecting, you brought all those feelings to the forefront. I thought about how he’s my last, how I won’t have another biological baby. I cried about that too.
You have no right to make assumptions about my fertility.
I waited until my husband came home to share what had happened. It took some effort, but I managed to tell him. I even changed out of that dress and put it back on to show him. “Oh, you don’t look pregnant,” he said after taking a look. “That dress just has a front pleat. It makes what’s underneath look larger.”
Friends have reassured me that I’m beautiful. They’ve called out your rudeness, reminding me that I look great and that you had no right to speak to me that way. They insist I look wonderful. My husband echoes their sentiments, stating I certainly don’t look pregnant. You, however, sowed seeds of doubt in my mind. Your words validated my darkest thoughts about my body, labeling me as unattractive and implying there’s something wrong with how I look.
But there’s nothing wrong with me. I look fabulous. So what if I’ve gained a few curves? I often admire curvy women and see their beauty. The only flaw here is your inability to respect the boundaries of others. Your assumptions can take a hike. I embrace my body, no matter the size.
I refuse to let your words dictate my self-worth. I’m reclaiming my narrative. And guess what? I’m still going to wear that dress.
If you’re interested in more discussions regarding fertility and pregnancy, check out this insightful resource on IVF and fertility preservation from the Cleveland Clinic. And if you’re considering at-home insemination, I highly recommend looking into reputable retailers of insemination kits, like this BabyMaker Home Intracervical Insemination Syringe Kit.
For additional perspectives on fertility topics, you might find this blog post engaging.
In summary, it’s essential to remember that our bodies are our own, and assumptions based on appearances can lead to hurtful conclusions. We all have our struggles, and it’s crucial to approach each other with respect and understanding.
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