Pregnant woman, public matter

This year, my summer has been full of art, outdoor dining and baby talk.

I am 35 weeks pregnant and wherever I go, friends, family and strangers alike have made my belly a topic of conversation — even when I don’t feel like talking about it.

They ask questions and offer their unsolicited observations.

“You look like you are going to pop.”

“You look tired.” “When are you due?” “What are you having?” “You’re glowing.” “You’re all belly.”

“Your boobs are bigger.” Not all of the comments are bad; some people give nice compliments. I actually enjoy knowing that others don’t think I look as exhausted as I feel some days. However, my most awkward interactions are with people I don’t know. It seems that when a woman is pregnant, her body becomes a topic for public discussion or physical examination, as if she’s a statue outside of a public library or community park.

I recently went to a friend’s family cookout. An uncle greeted me warmly, noticed my pregnant belly and took it upon himself to rub it. It wasn’t a creepy rub, and I can’t say that I felt like I was in danger. I was just shocked that he felt comfortable enough to cross the barriers of personal space and touched a stranger.

During one rainy Sunday in the spring, I visited Church on the Rock in New Haven. I enjoyed the service very much, and the people there were very nice. One woman and her husband were sitting side by side, observing my toddler and I with smiles. They didn’t seem to have children of their own — at least small ones to sit with them. While the preacher delivered her sermon, my toddler decided he was going to walk down the row by himself. I lunged for him, grabbing his arm and pulling him back. The smiling couple, whispered, “It’s OK,” and indicated that they wouldn’t let him walk past them, giving my toddler a few paces of extra freedom. At the end of the service, the wife hugged my son and I, gave my belly a gentle rub and asked when the next baby was due. “August,” I answered. Although she was warm, she was still a stranger who entered my personal space. Perhaps she had already done so by hugging me and by guarding my son from doing a 100meter dash in the church’s sanctuary, but it still felt weird to be touched in that way by someone I didn’t know.

I’ve always said that if someone touched my pregnant belly, that I would return the favor and rub their stomach back. In a few cases, I have been successful. The people that I’ve rubbed back have made awkward faces. I can tell that for a split second they feel that I’ve violated their personal space. Then they put themselves in my shoes and realize the nonverbal point I’m making.

Pregnancy seems to be one of the few bodily conditions that people seem to feel they have the right to talk about and explore openly without the mother’s consent. There is no way most of us would go up to someone with an obese stomach and rub on their tummy or ask them about their weight condition. Could you imagine going up to someone with a large nonpregnant stomach and telling them that they’re “all belly,” or that they look tired or that they’ve gained more weight since the last time you saw them? I couldn’t. Why is this OK to do to expectant mothers?

For centuries, people have felt that they’ve had a right to touch or make commentary on women’s bodies — pregnant or not. If you’re one of them, it’s time to ask yourself why.