A food baby.

February 16, 2010

In light of an over eating bonanza that was our latest staff meeting, I’d like to shed some light on something some of us women have had the absolute horror of dealing with: that is the mistaken pregnancy.

“Congratulations!” or “How far along are you?” or even the strangers hand reaching out to touch your belly. I’m not interested in what it’s like for all you mamma’s out there who have had a stranger reach out and touch your *gasp* stomach while pregnant. Imagine that happening, when there is no baby inside.

I know sometimes those of us without children may like to eat out the odd time… hell, maybe all the time (since we have all this extra money and no kid to have to spend it on) and all this eating out results in little ponches or pooches, or the dreaded gunt. I hear you ladies who love food, I hear you loud and clear. For a while there I thought I may only be trying to get pregnant to hide my overall big-ness.

When your eating creates what one can only assume is a pregnancy, you need to get a hold of yourself. I am not without guilt in this category. I’ve had an autistic student yell accross the cafeteria last year: “Miss! Are you pregnant?!” He was shocked to see that I was with child, and I was mortified to not just be asked, but have it bellowed for all to hear.

How do we survive the dreaded question? With anger? With shock? With tears? No to all of the above. We handle it with grace and humour. Keep on top of things as best we can and draw attention to it, before they can.

Today as I sat with a friend at work she informed me that she was in fact pregnant, with twins. Their names? “Chips and Paté”.

So there you have it.

L*

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One Response to “A food baby.”

  1. Lia said

    A food baby, a period baby, an endometriosis baby etc. After hearing that I wasn’t in fact pregnant, this lady who apparently works at a fertility clinic insisted that I must be having a phantom pregnancy because my stomach was so bloated. Idiot. How do we deal with all the rude idiots out there? “Are you pregnant?” “No, I’m just really constipated, thanks for asking.”

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