Balancing Act

What Not to Say to a Pregnant Woman

Like nearly every woman I know, I’m currently expecting a baby. I swear there’s something in the water. With so many of my friends currently in the same state—hormonally gifted, that is—talk often turns to what bugs us. And nine times out of 10, the conversation starts this way: “You’ll never believe what someone said to me today.”

In our saner moments, most pregnant women would agree that the hormone cocktail plays a part in how we view certain comments, but sometimes there’s just no excuse: it truly is amazing what people will say to you during these particular nine months. For instance, one friend described how a food server in her workplace’s cafeteria critiques her lunch choices every day. Comments such as, “That’s not good for the baby” or even “No wonder you’re putting on so much weight if you’re eating things like that.” Thankfully, she’s not a violent woman.

I, on the other hand, get more comments about how I should be much bigger than I am. I’m constantly asked something along the lines of, “Are you sure you’re six months along? You don’t even look like you’re pregnant.” Yes, I’m sure. Ask my husband for the details.

I’m sure non-pregnant people think “small” comments are a compliment, but I’m here to tell you they’re not. Just like the “you’re huge” comments make a pregnant woman feel like a whale, the “you’re small” comments make a pregnant woman feel like there’s something wrong with her.

I’ve discussed the size-ist remarks with my pregnant pals, and we agree that it ain’t rocket science: at 5’8”, I’ve got a lot of room for the baby to stretch out. It’s like a Presidential Suite in there. But when you’re 5’3”, there’s only one way to go—straight out.

If you absolutely must comment on how a pregnant woman looks, the only surefire winner is, “You look wonderful.” End of sentiment. Don’t give in to the impulse to add anything else. A well-intentioned comment about how her hair looks so much fuller or how her skin is so clear now just begs the pregnant woman to ponder whether she was slightly troll-like before.

But the way she looks isn’t the only danger zone when dealing with a pregnant woman. No matter what, don’t ever ask her, “Don’t you remember—?” Whatever it is, no, she doesn’t remember, and she doesn’t want to be reminded that she can’t recall things like her older child’s name.

This pregnancy complication is known as CRS—Can’t Remember Stuff. It’s a little known fact (except to pregnant women) that when the stick turns blue, a woman’s memory goes into hibernation. It’s very annoying. Fortunately, you soon forget why you’re annoyed.

CRS is an everyday occurrence for me; I’ve seriously considered giving up speaking until this baby is born. I can’t count the number of times I’ve tried to tell a story about my day and, failing to come up with complex words such as “lunch” and “microwave,” ended the attempt with “oh, never mind.” My poor husband has had to invent ways of asking whether I remember something without sounding like he’s questioning my memory—and thereby awakening the hormonal gods. It’s like a parlor game gone horribly awry.

And when two or more pregnant women get together, forget it. There’s just a lot of nodding and smiling and very little actual conversation. We know we’re not going to be able to complete a thought anyway, and we have to conserve our energy. So we nod and smile and tell each other how wonderful we look. TPW