I have been married for well over two years now – 970 days
to be precise. And for the last 969 days, I’ve had to fend off questions about
when I might start a family. These questions have come mostly from other women.
I never know what to say when I’m asked this and usually smile politely and invent
some generic excuse.
A woman I follow on Instagram posted a picture of a negative
pregnancy test this week, in an attempt to silence the many people who ask her
on a daily basis when she will be giving her daughter a sibling. This woman has
been trying for a second child for 14 months. And yet she constantly has to
make excuses when she’s asked when it’s time for another one rather than reveal
the heartbreaking truth that she may not be able to.
Last month, while doing my weekly shop, I bought a
pregnancy test and a box of tampons (you can never be too prepared, frankly.)
The woman on the checkout decided it was okay to comment on these items. ‘Oh I
hope it’s a yes,’ she exclaimed as she scanned the test through. I was aghast.
I actually posted the scenario in the famous AIBU (am I being unreasonable)
thread on Mumsnet. The Mumsnet community largely agreed that it was definitely
not okay to comment on personal items. Polite shit chat? Absolutely. But
tampons, pregnancy kits, condoms or any sort of weight loss product; nope. Surely
we should all know those topics are off limits?
When did it become okay for women to interrogate other
women? Pressuring them in to an ideal that they might not want? A race to the
egg that they cannot have. Starting sweepstakes in the workplace to decide who
will be next. I’m sick of it. Sick of the excuses. Sick of the fake smiles. But
mostly sick of the fact that as soon as I became married, my achievements were
rendered null and void. I was now just a baby making machine in waiting.
Of course, no one knows the full story. I could be pregnant
right now (I’m not), I could be desperately trying month after month, living on
beans and toast to be able to afford the ovulation tests! I could be grieving a
miscarriage. I could be worried about the implications that a pregnancy might
have on my mental health. I could be focusing on my career. Or maybe I could just
be enjoying life without the burden of a baby. Whatever my circumstances, whatever
the reason, is it not okay for you to ask.
So the next time you think about asking those newlyweds when
you’re likely to hear the pitter patter of tiny feet, you might want to just
shut the fuck up instead. There’s a story behind every fake smile that's not ready to be published yet.
