PSA

Don’t EVER ask a woman if she is pregnant.  You may read that sentence and say, “Ali, why would you bring that up?”  Allow me elaborate.  I have been “accused” of being great with child on THREE separate occasions…when in fact, my womb was empty.  (Now, I want to preface these stories by saying I totally get that I can look suspiciously pregnant.  I have a gut.  I’m not putting ALL the blame on my sweet twins, however, that pregnancy tore my body up.  I have a perma-belly.  No matter how skinny I will (never) be, it will remain a part of me.  I call it “the twin skin”.  I’m really looking forward to my “Celestial Tummy Tuck”.  I’m hanging on to Alma’s promise!).  So, on three different occasions, by three different women, I (and hopefully they) have been humiliated.

The first time: Anna and Leah were born on May 10.  Our wedding anniversary is on May 18.  In 2006, the twins were still in the hospital.  I was still huge, but after delivering 10+ pounds of baby, I felt like a svelte supermodel.  James and I celebrate our anniversary of 2006 by visiting the babies in the NICU, going to dinner, then heading over to Barnes and Noble bookstore.  As I approached the counter to purchase my over priced books, the cashier excitedly asks, “When is your baby due?!”  I politely smiled and said, “I already had them.”  She apologizes, obviously embarrassed.  I wasn’t too upset since I did just have a baby.  Honest mistake. 

Fast forward six years.  I’m at church, wearing a maxi dress.  A church go-er comes up to me after the meeting and says, “I didn’t know you were pregnant!”  Polite smile, “I’m not.”  She proceeds to rub my perma-belly and say, “You liar!”  Tomato face, “No, really I’m not pregnant.”  She then turns to the group of ladies standing around me looking for verification.  They all shake their heads, “no”.  She tries to apologize, but I mean really, there is no redemption for that.

Fast forward to today.  Another church function.  I’m writing my name on a name tag.  Woman I haven’t seen in a while approaches me, points to my perma-belly and says, “You’re expecting another one!  How many will this make for you?”  Now, I was not feeling especially sunshine-y this morning.  That comment was literally a punch to the (twin skin) gut.  Instantly, my eyes sting with tears, and my face is hot.  I curtly smiled and said, “I have three girls.”  Then turned and walked off.  I’m sure she thought I was being especially rude since I didn’t engage in conversation about my growing family.  If I had stood there any longer, I would have started bawling.  Blame the non-existent pregnancy hormones.   

Of course, in hind sight, I have come up with a million witty comebacks.  Maybe by the fourth time I’m asked about my round belly, I will be ready to use one of them.  Maybe I should stop eating chocolate chips.  Maybe I should do some sit ups at night instead of watching reruns of The Office in my comfy Lazy-boy.  Maybe…maybe…maybe.   In all reality, I’m going to keep enjoying handfuls/bags of chocolate chips and watching TV motionless in my yoga pants (that have never been to yoga).  SO…if you happen to bump into me, I’ll spare us the humiliation right now.  I’m NOT pregnant.  I will NEVER be pregnant again in this lifetime, so please don’t ask…unless you want to ruin my day!                 

This has been a Public Service Announcement from your friend, Ali.  Remember me the next time you bump in to an old friend who looks “suspiciously” pregnant.  She’s probably just thick through the middle.  You’re welcome.

 This is a picture of "suspiciously" pregnant.  Maybe she's pregnant...maybe she ate Mexican for lunch.    Best not to ask in this situation.  (I'm actually 20 weeks pregnant with Raychel here.)

This is a picture of, "I'm so pregnant right now.  I would give my right arm for a deep, cleansing breath."  Notice the fake smile, swollen face, HUGE, HARD belly (Not pictured: The spread-legged-waddle/walk).  It would be appropriate to ask about a pregnancy at this stage.  Two days before I had the twins.