What not to say to a pregnant lady

Over the past eight months, I’ve been hit with many of the same old questions and comments.

“How are you feeling?” “When are you due?” “Do you know what you’re having?” “Do you have names picked out?”

Those four are definitely the most common, in that order. It gets old after this long, but I don’t fault anyone for asking. Although I maybe wish people wouldn’t ask about the name because if I just say “yes,” I feel this uncomfortable pause where they want me to follow up with what we are naming her. Most of the time I’ll just tell people because who really cares, but what if I didn’t want to say?

Before I get into the comments that range from uncomfortable to annoying, let me start with a disclaimer. Many of these comments have been made by people I love, and if you’re one of them, know that none of them were genuinely upsetting. These are just my personal pet peeves, and I know they were all said in kindness or at least with no ill will.

The question that makes me uncomfortable is when people ask, “are you going to breastfeed?” I usually give an awkward shrug and say, “if I can.” But seriously, what a strange question. Are you going to be upset if I were to say no? And how can I know to say yes if I don’t even know how my body or baby will respond to this?

One thing I get a lot from people my parents’ or grandparents’ ages are comments on things that are now child safety standards.

“We put blankets and toys in the crib with our baby and they did just fine.” “Everyone kissed our baby and he/she never got sick.”

That’s wonderful for you, but unfortunately some kids did die, and that’s why we don’t do those things anymore. Some people are saying it just to compare the differences in the times, but others question if these extra steps are necessary.

The same goes for rules pregnant women follow. I understand people are often trying to ease my worries about following some of these rules, but as a woman who has lost two babies, I’m not willing to take any risks.

It’s not that I necessarily believe the actions themselves to be risky, it’s that I know if I were to lose this baby and I have been not following one of the rules, I would blame myself relentlessly. I’d rather not endure that and so instead, I don’t eat deli meat.

It’s probably one of the more uncomfortable things about being pregnant. I feel so pretentious when I’m somewhere serving sandwiches and I say, “I’m sorry, I can’t have deli meat. Is there another option?” I know people are thinking, “oh, I had deli meat, and I was just fine.”

My pregnancy has not been fun. I’ve been sick, sore and sweaty for what feels like an eternity. If I tell you this, please do not respond with how amazing you felt during your pregnancy. Good for you, Linda, but I’m barely making it over here.

Because I’ve had a not-so-fun pregnancy, I’ve been ready for this to be over for awhile now. So when I tell you my due date, please don’t say, “oh, so you’ve got a ways to go then.” I do not need that negativity in my life.

And for the love of God, let me complain about my pregnancy. Let me whine about how little sleep I’m getting at night without telling me, “just wait until the baby comes.” I’m aware newborns keep you up at night. At least then I have a cute newborn to cuddle. Right now I’m just tossing and turning like a rotisserie chicken.

As a first-time mom, I’m inundated with suggestions and tips. “Buy the wipes warmer — it’s a game changer.” “Don’t get a wipes warmer or she’ll be super fussy if you change her out and about with cold wipes.”

“The baby should be in your room for the first six months.” “You’ll barely use the basinet, just put the baby in her crib.”

Some moms swear by Millie Moon diapers while others say Huggies get the job done just fine. My husband’s already committed to Pampers because they have a rewards program. I say we’ll wait to find out what works best on baby.

At the end of the day, none of these comments actually upset me, but as someone who has been fielding these questions for what feels like forever, these are the pet peeves I’ve accumulated.