Maybe I should just stop talking to everyone...

So, I've done something that I am not proud of, and for the life of me, I can't figure out why I did it.

Let me start by saying this: I had this issue throughout my pregnancy, and it bugged the crap out of me.  I can sum it up with "strangers talking to me about my pregnancy."  
There's a thing that happens when you are pregnant, where you are incubating this tiny human, and everyone in the world feels the need to comment on it.  People stop seeing YOU, they just see The Belly.  I don't know why this is.  It's bad enough when it comes from friends, family, and co-workers, but these are people you speak and deal with on a regular basis; you expect their questions and comments and complete disregard for the person you used to be, so you put up with it.  But why the strangers?!   I couldn't stand that every single random person I crossed paths with just felt the need to say something about it.  Why did these strangers think they could talk to me?!?!  

 Some kept it simple and just exclaimed "oh, you're pregnant!"   Ummm, yeah.  Holy crap, you're right!  No way!  
Most had the standard script of questions you were forced to answer over and over again: "Boy or Girl?  How far along are you?   Is this your first?"   
And then there were the over-sharers, like the dude at the tile store who, upon seeing my pregnant belly, excitedly told me that his also-pregnant daughter had just lost her mucous plug the day before!  Oh, so gross.  How did this man think that I wanted to discuss mucus plugs with him?  Or anyone ever?  How are you even supposed to react to that?  
The answer is: with a polite smile.  
I did soooo much polite smiling to strangers, when I really just wanted to tell them to f**k off and mind their own business.  It was a constant source of annoyance to me, and made me feel invisible as a whole person – I was now only the baby.  I wanted a preggers shirt that said "Don't talk to me about my baby."  

Just leave me alone altogether, okay?

Cut to now: my kiddo is 4 months old, and no one has asked me about my stomach in a while, woo-hoo!   I've stopped for a breakfast taco at our neighborhood taco shack on my way to work.  Today, I notice that our usual cashier is pregnant.  She always wears a big apron, so it's taken a while to notice, but suddenly, she is very visibly pregnant.  I actually think, "oh, she's pregnant!"   
And then, to my utter horror, I hear myself say to her "Boy or girl?"
The voice inside my head starts yelling at me: Seriously?!?!?!?!  What the hell, dude?  You know how annoying that crap is, why would you do that?"
Taco girl smiles politely and says "Girl." 
I can't believe it when I hear myself continue "When are you due?"  
She responds with "July" and another short, polite smile. 
Are you fricking kidding me?  Stop talking!  Go away, let her make your taco!  She doesn't want to talk to you.  It's only 7 am and you are the first of a billion people who are going to comment on her belly today.  Walk away, now.
To my utter despair, I am in the grips of some unstoppable force of annoyance, and I can't help but see this script to the very end.  "Is this your first?"
Taco girl nods, and just walks away to get back to work.  
Way to go.  Are you proud of yourself?  You've become the very thing you hate.

  

WHY DID I DO THIS? 

Did I say it because this is what human behavior has taught me is expected of me to say to a pregnant woman?  Has the repetition of hearing those questions for months made it compulsory?   Perhaps it is my revenge upon the world – they did it to me, so I’m going to do it to you?   Am I excited for her, this perfect stranger, that I know the joy she has coming towards her, joy she can't even imagine?   
Or is it that now she's part of some inner circle, and this is the hazing ritual she must endure?  We prep each other with these easy questions about due dates to ease you into things, but when the kid is born you'll lose all sense of privacy about your body and find yourself spilling your guts to anyone who asks.  You'll realize one day you've been talking about breast pumping for half an hour to a co-worker, or you've gleefully recounted your birth story a dozen times, and you'll wish you had a dollar for every time you said the word cervix.  Those "boy or girl" questions are nothing next to having to answer "How was your first poo after giving birth?"   

I don't know what compels us to talk about all this stuff.  It's got to be some kind of woman/mom thing that can’t be explained.  Maybe those pregnancy hormones corrupted my genes, and now I'm a member of some horrible sorority of women who ask each other inane, obvious questions and talk about our cervixes and nipples too much. 

(those are supposed to be milk spots)

So, I’m warning you all.  Beware.  I just can’t stop myself.   This is parenthood.  I got on the crazy train, and there’s not getting off.  Let’s just see where we go from here!