Maybe You're Pregnant

If you're female, you have heard this suggestion at some point in your life. Sometimes it's legitimized and in response to something like "I haven't gotten my period in five months and my stomach feels like there are tiny feet playing a tiny soccer game in it." Sometimes, it's in response to mundane things that happen frequently to most of the population, including males. I'm writing this post now, on behalf of all women, to tell everyone that unless you are 100% certain that the person in question is actively trying to get knocked up, you should shut the fuck up and keep your pregnancy foreshadowing to yourself.

The future people force me to imagine.

Pregnancy would absolutely ruin my life. I am far too selfish to care for something that isn't small, furry, and poops in a portable box. If I tell you I woke up nauseous and had to stay home from work because I felt pukey all day, do not, I repeat DO NOT, tell me that it's because I'm probably pregnant. Those are nightmare words for me to hear. Sentences like that cause horrible mental imagery of me holding at least nine spitting, crying, pooping babies and looking like my soul died. They also make me incredibly paranoid. I start thinking of all the scenarios in which I could be pregnant: maybe someone replaced my birth control with certs, maybe some guy jacked off into the washing machine and then when I washed my underwear some fusion occurred, etc. (THIS CAN'T HAPPEN BUT THIS IS WHAT THE WORD "PREGNANCY" DOES TO ME). I also don't want to hear you suggest pregnancy if I've been eating like a heifer recently. Maybe I'm just hungry. Maybe I eat my feelings (I do). There are plenty of other reasons why I would be consuming everything in sight other than having a bun in the oven. Also, don't you know how rude it is to comment on how much someone is eating? News flash: it's very rude.

I love how casual the
pickle outside of the jar is.

Lastly, if you're female and love pickles THIS DOES NOT AUTOMATICALLY MEAN YOU'RE PREGNANT. I just fucking love pickles, ok? When did they become emblazoned on the metaphorical pregnancy flag? They are low calorie, satisfyingly crunchy, salty, garlicky goodness. I would like to enjoy all my pickles or be able to freely declare that I want 54 of them in my mouth at once without someone gasping and saying "maybe you're pregnant!" Maybe you're making horrible, earth-shattering assumptions that will ruin my life forever (or at least for the rest of the day). So again, on behalf of all women who eat their weight in food, get nauseous sometimes, and heart pickles; please stop convincing us that we are carrying Rosemary's baby. Thank you and good day.