Right about now I’m in that ‘looking pregnant’ phase of my pregnancy. There are all sorts of wonderful things about that, people hold doors open a little more frequently, they stare at you like you’re a circus side show, they think it’s ok to touch parts of your body that normally would be considered sexual harassment… ok so it sucks. I’m not the first woman to be pregnant and experience the unsolicited belly rub. Sadly I’m not even the first to write about it. So I’ll try not to repeat the same ‘ol, same ‘ol. But what gives?!

While some people have the gumption to ask if it’s ok to touch your belly (one of the strangest questions possibly ever asked by a stranger) a great many just go for it. That’s a lot of nerve these people have, to see a pregnant woman wandering by and think, “Oh I love those things, I’m going to go touch it!” I’m not a statue of Buddha wandering down the street just waiting to receive your caress. A genie isn’t going to pop out of my ass if you rub my belly in a clockwise motion so back off!

I was trying to think if there are any other states of being that people feel it’s appropriate to invade your personal bubble. Let’s say there’s a man with club foot hobbling down the aisle at your grocery store, can we just assume it’s alright to grab hold of his foot and polish it up like you’re a shoe shine boy? “Oh I just noticed you have club foot congratulations!” What if you spot a hunchback old lady sit down at the table next to you at a restaurant, is she going to expect that strangers will want to fondle her hump and ask, “How far along is your osteoporosis?” Of course not.

So why, why, why do you old ladies  (and anyone else, but let’s face it old ladies especially are the culprits) think nothing of grabbing hold of my baby oven and patting it down like they were checking a melon at a fruit stand?

Perhaps my crowning achievement in the belly rights movement was during my first pregnancy. A client came into our office that I had been helping for months over the phone, I had never mentioned being pregnant. As I stood up and walked over to a different computer to show her the ad she would be placing in our magazine, I noticed her eyes bulge out of her head like, “Ohhh, I didn’t know you had one of those, you’ve been holding out me” and of course her hands were magnetically pulled to my belly like fridge magnets to a freezer. So as she asks me, “How far along are you?” (while touching my belly) I didn’t miss a beat in saying, “I’m not pregnant, I just really enjoy beer.” I managed to spit this sentence out with a total straight face. Her face went white (whiter, she was already a ghostly old realtor lady) and she said - and I have to give her credit for her own quick thinking, “Oh… you just have this glow about you and I assumed…” however with the sales guy in the room (they frown upon losing sales) he quickly piped in with, “Oh she’s only kidding you, of course she’s pregnant!”

In the end the important thing was she kept her hands to herself every time she saw me thereafter, and maybe, just maybe she thought twice when she saw a woman with a large belly pass her by, after all maybe that woman just enjoys beer.