New Mummy Blog: Dealing With Unwanted Comments During Pregnancy

Inappropriate comments (and bump touching) are a very common part of pregnancy – but why should they be?

While one of the most enjoyable parts of pregnancy is how special you’re made to feel and the thoughtfulness of people, including strangers, there’s a flip side, too.

In some ways it’s like you become public property, fair game for anyone and everyone to comment on and dispense unasked-for advice to. Alongside the kindness of some strangers comes the unkindness of others.

No pregnant woman asks for her bump to be patted [Rex]
No pregnant woman asks for her bump to be patted [Rex]



It comes in many shapes and sizes. There are the obvious anecdotes. For every person that lets you board the busy commuter train first or offers you a seat, there are five more who would push past and pretend not to see you.

The weirdest one is probably that throughout both of my pregnancies it has not been uncommon for people to pat or feel my bump without even asking if I mind.

It is odd, for when else is it acceptable to have a good grope of someone’s midsection in the fruit and veg aisle? It’s harmless enough I suppose, just incredibly awkward, especially when you don’t even know them.

But what’s worst, in my opinion, are the people who feel it’s perfectly acceptable to comment on my size, from colleagues telling me I look “very pregnant today” to the woman on the checkout at Sainsbury’s saying I can’t have long to go (I was only five months pregnant at the time) or the waitress at our holiday hotel telling me I was “much bigger” than her when she was pregnant.

Not forgetting my sister in law telling me how enormous I looked, again “much, MUCH bigger” than I was first time around.

It might be shallow, but just because I’m pregnant and inevitably getting bigger by the day, I’m still a woman and I still don’t like to be called fat.

People have a habit of weighing in with advice when you're pregnant [Rex]
People have a habit of weighing in with advice when you're pregnant [Rex]


I know I’ve got even more to look forward to once the baby is here too.

Last time, two days after I had given birth, with my uterus still contracting and my baby bump still prominent, my husband’s uncle exclaimed: “It looks like you’ve got another one in there!”.

How to make a girl feel good, 48 hours after pushing a baby out of her body and not having slept since.

And then there’s the unwanted advice, particularly from strangers, like the waiter who questioned whether my choice of starter was appropriate for a pregnant woman (and seemed surprised that I chose to follow the NHS guidelines on what is safe to eat, rather than his).

This isn’t going to come to an end when the pregnancy does, either, for when the baby comes that’s when the unsolicited advice really begins.

So, how to deal with all these unwanted nuggets of advice and inappropriate comments?

As people are, for the most part, well intentioned and as confrontation makes me uncomfortable, I tend to be in the smile, nod and ignore camp.

While I would often love to snap back at commenter with a cutting retort, I simply don’t have the guts. Likewise, the witty response that will put them firmly in their place inevitably comes to me far too late to be of use.

Instead, I keep it simple:

For the unwanted advice-givers, my advice (and I do see the irony) is to ignore it. Don’t dismiss it out of hand without listening, because there might actually be some gems sometimes. But mostly trusting my own instincts has served me far better than anything a stranger can volunteer without knowing the first thing about me, my pregnancy or my baby. They don’t call it a mother’s intuition for nothing.

For the horrors who comment on shape or size, be it “you’re enormous!” or “”your bump is tiny for seven months, are you sure everything’s okay in there?”, again I ignore it, literally, and do not respond. An awkward silence can speak louder than a defensive comeback.

And for those who want to cop a feel of the bump: I do draw the line at smiling and nodding to this one.

To the over-eager who don’t ask before they grab, a surprised “Sorry, do I know you?” should do the trick.

To those who do at least have the restraint to ask first, they can’t (or at least shouldn’t) take offence to a friendly but firm “I’d rather you didn’t”.

Or, if I’m feeling a little braver, an “Only if I can feel yours too” helps to get across the absolute inappropriateness of what they are asking. I just have to hope they don’t say yes.

[New Mummy Blog: Feeling Guilty About Having A Second Baby]

[New Mummy Blog: Is There A Perfect Age Gap Between Children?]