Whose Prerogative?

Today marks 17 weeks of gestation. So I'm inching ever closer to the half-way point of this, my first pregnancy. That said, I'm still at three months and change. Into the second trimester. But three months and change isn't particularly impressive sounding.

Depending on the clothing I have on, my posture, and the angle at which you observe me, I can either look barely pregnant at all (assuming you didn't know what I looked like pre-conception) or pretty darn preggernant. One thing I've learned -- I'd heard it said, but it's different when you discover something firsthand -- is that when you get knocked up, everyone thinks it's their god-given right not only to pass judgment on your appearance, but to do it out loud and, worse still, to your face.

I've gotten an earful of "you're really showing," and "only 3.5 months? I'd've guessed you were at least five months along!" in the last few weeks.

I'll never be anything but supportive to fellow pregnant wimmins again. They need the positive feedback. We need it.

I shudder to think what I'll look like in June, to say nothing of early July, if I'm getting these sort of comments at this point. My belly will likely need its own zip code.