I’m not a very big person. I don’t take up much room.

So moments like squeezing between two chairs in a restaurant, or walking between parked cars, or through a semi-closed doorway – DOESN’T usually register in my mind.

Until now!

With an expanding belly, you have to be mindful of the increasing area of your “personal space”.

I find myself bumping into walls, trolleys, tables, chairs, and people!

The other day I had a rather embarrassing moment trying to run through a closing lift door.

I zipped in at the last moment. I knew I could make it, and I probably could have – except for my bump. Sure enough, the lift door closed and went DONK on my belly and it had to reopen. And everyone in the lift rolled their eyes at the eccentric pregnant woman.

And another time, after I parked my car, I opened my door as far as I could (without banging it into the next car), tried to step out, and found myself wedged in my car doorway!

There wasn’t enough room for me to get out! I was pregnant and I was stuck! I had to re-park my car!

Another thing about having a large belly bump, is that people – especially old women – like to talk to you. They like to touch. And press. And ask questions. I don’t mind it that much, but sometimes it gets very irritating, especially if I’m in a hurry.

Children also like to ask questions. “Are you full? Do you have A BABY in your tummy?”

And depending on their level of curiosity and familiarity with Where Babies Comes From, you can often find yourself saying, “Maybe you should go ask your mother!”

Sleeping is another problem.

I usually sleep ON my tummy. It’s the only way I can fall asleep. It gets very problematic when your bump gets so huge that you can’t find a comfortable position to get a good night’s rest. In the end – to your husband’s dismay – you have to use 4 pillows wedged here, propped there, and you look like a tangled whale.

For me, the worse thing about having a large bump, is being treated like an invalid.

People won’t let you carry things. Or push things. Or stand on things. Or even lift things.

The other day, a young man insisted on lifting 8 bags of organic mulch into the boot of my car. Poor guy was getting his uniform so dirty.

And the staff at one restaurant, rearranged the seating in their cafe to make a wide enough pathway for me to get to the toilet!

I guess, it’s probably for the better. And sometimes it’s quite sweet. But I just feel humiliated and self-conscious!

Ah. Perhaps I should just get over it and milk it for what it’s worth.

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