The Five Little Ducks Blog

Male readers (yes, all three of you); I have a question:

How often do you receive comments about your appearance?

I have no intention here of starting some kind of gender war, but I genuinely am curious about how frequently people talk to males about the way they look.

My husband has quite a bushy red beard, so no doubt, people make their remarks, and even worse, some people try to touch it.

Do people ever tell you that you look tired? Do they talk about the shape of your body? Make assumptions?

Perhaps they do, but I doubt that the frequency of such commentary could come close to the number of times per day a pregnant woman receives comments.

What I find amusing is how quickly the talk changed from “you’re pregnant? Oh, I couldn’t tell!” to “haven’t popped yet?” In my case, this has actually been in the space of two months.

In the last month of pregnancy, I hear daily:

“You’re still here?”

“Haven’t dropped yet?”

“Any day now!”

“Careful you don’t go into labour here!”

“No baby yet?”

Many are surprised when they hear about how far along the pregnancy is (at the moment, 39 weeks), and remark about how small my belly is.

“You’re so compact!”

“You’re tiny!”

“You don’t look very big!”

This is funny, because in the same weeks that I have been told I look small, I have had people ask if I was certain, due to my huge size, that I wasn’t having twins. I also find it strange to hear myself described as tiny or small, because I have never been considered these things outside of pregnancy.

For the record, all three of my previous babies were healthy sizes, and I received similar comments during their pregnancies. Mr J, my smallest newborn, weighed 3.6 kilograms at birth (7 pounds, 9 ounces), and Miss R, my biggest, weighed 4.305 kilograms (about 9.5 pounds), with Mr E being only a little smaller than his sister. For some reason, it feels somewhat disheartening when I hear that I look small, perhaps because I feel so heavy, and dismissive, because the third trimester of pregnancy is very challenging no matter what the size of your baby.

I don’t mind people asking about when the baby is due, I am very clearly in my third trimester and happy to make conversation. It is worse for my lovely sister, who after having three children, has retained a pronounced belly. Despite being extremely fit and healthy and seeing a physiotherapist for help with the issue, she has not been able to shrink her belly back to its former size. The frequency with which others ask her when her next baby is due is so regular that she is looking into having surgery. It has prevented her from wanting to go out into public. I think that people assume that she is pregnant because her belly is out of proportion to her slender arms and legs. Still, when she explains that she is not pregnant, she has had people offer her all sorts of advice, including the need for diet and exercise. It inevitably leads to awkwardness in the moment, and frustration for my sister.

Being a tall, size 14-16, “well covered” kind of gal, my soft edges are all fairly proportional and that is why it takes so long for people to notice that I am pregnant. I “carry well”. The thing that I most frequently receive comments about is how tired I look. Ok, yes, I often *am* tired, but it is not the aspect of my being that I want everyone to notice, and on the occasions when I am not tired, hearing that I look tired makes me feel self-conscious and sad. My theory as to why people assume I am tired based on my appearance is that I am quite pale. My fair skin has never coped with the sunny Australian climate. When friends talk about how dreary and grey the United Kingdom is, how frequently it rains and the sun never shines, I think that it sounds like bliss (although I do enjoy being able to line dry our washing year round in Australia). Exposure to sun does not make my skin tan, it just turns my flesh to varying shades of pink, and every summer new additions join my collection of arm freckles. As well as having pale/pink skin (the skin on my lower neck is probably a deeper shade than my natural lip colour), I have blonde eye lashes and eye brows. When I was younger, I practically never wore make up. The only times I considered wearing make up were when I was to perform on stage or attend a special event, like a wedding. I felt like I should just be content in my own skin and that people should accept me for who I was. Since having five children, and drawing a lot of attention, my attitude has changed. When I realised how the frequency of comments about my tired appearance dropped significantly when I wore mascara and lipstick, applying these became a part of my daily routine. Wearing “comfortable” clothes shifted to wearing outfits that made me feel comfortable about my appearance, including lots of flowing dresses, pretty jewellery, and putting Argan oil in my thick hair to reduce frizziness. When I don this feminine mask, I want to send the message that despite being a slightly deranged full-time mum with too many kids, I have not given up on life and that I’m OK!

I feel that most of the time, people’s silly comments come from a place of kindness. They ask my sister when her baby is due because they are making conversation and taking an interest. They tell me that I look tired because they are concerned about my well being. I would rather that they asked me how my day is going, because I am a fairly honest person and I am willing to share. My sister feels that it should not be common practice to ask women if they are pregnant and wait for them to bring it up. I personally avoid asking women until their bump is so round and pronounced that it is extremely obvious that they are pregnant, compared to soft tummies that could possibly signify a woman being pregnant, or having gained weight. I try to stick to the old “if you have nothing nice to say, don’t say it at all”, and rather than make assumptions, simply engage people in conversation and get to know them.

As for all of the “haven’t dropped yet” conversations, it’s ok. I don’t love hearing these same things time and time again, but I shall survive. They seem somewhat a part of the ritual of life as an expectant mother. My baby is due to be born in a couple of days, but she might be late as my other babies never arrived before their due dates. I don’t mind the wait, as exhausting and uncomfortable as it all is, because I am treasuring this last bit of time with her in my womb. I don’t enjoy rushing things. My prayer is that my baby will be born safely in God’s perfect timing. We are not planning to have any more children, so this stage is special. Once she is born I won’t get to feel her roll around anymore. I won’t be able to look in the mirror and admire my bump. She will grow so very quickly that within a year she will be walking and eating her birthday cake, the next year she will learn to talk, and soon enough after that I will be dropping her off at school.

I will never forget how when Mr E was a new baby, I felt like the newborn stage would never end. But life is so busy with lots of children, and I now have the hindsight to know how truly quickly each season will pass. Even the thought of going through labour in the next week or two does not frighten me. One painful day in a lifetime is a trade off well worth making to bring a precious child into the world, as are the nine months of nausea, indigestion, swollen feet, breathlessness, constipation, extreme tiredness, back aches and weight gain… Alright, so perhaps there are some things that I am looking forward to farewelling. Any day now…

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight.” Proverbs 3:5-6