Don’t ask her if she’s pregnant.

You can’t know the insecurity she’s feeling from the weight she has gained as her age has ticked up and her metabolism has slowed down. She tugs at her clothes but no matter how much she pulls, they just don’t fit like they used to. She’s not expecting anything or anyone, but she is feeling so very insecure. You can’t know, so don’t ask.

Don’t ask her if she’s pregnant.

You don’t realize how many months have passed her by, how many negative pregnancy tests she has thrown away with tears in her eyes. You don’t realize how her heart longs; how it breaks just the tiniest bit every time she passes a growing bump on a busy street. You don’t realize, so don’t ask.

Don’t ask her if she’s pregnant.

You don’t understand how pressured she’s feeling. Her daddy wants a grandbaby to call his own, but that’s not where her heart lies. The life of a mother isn’t the one she wants to lead. She has dreams and ambitions that don’t include a baby, and even though that’s perfectly fine, she’s feeling the weight of the world’s expectations. You don’t understand, so don’t ask.

Don’t ask her if she’s pregnant.

You can’t tell from the outside, but inside she’s aching. There was a life growing inside of her, but almost as quickly as it began, it was gone. She had just enough time to picture the future laid out before them; just enough time to wonder, “he or she?” and plan the perfect announcement. She was on cloud nine before the ache of loss barged in. “I’m sorry,” said the doctor, breaking her heart in two. You can’t see her pain from the outside, so don’t ask.

Don’t ask her if she’s pregnant.

You can’t fathom how shocked she was to see those two pink lines appear. She isn’t ready for this, she didn’t ask for this, she isn’t in the right mindset for this. She’s all alone with a question mark where her five-year plan should be. She’s in shock; she’s afraid, so don’t ask.

Don’t ask her if she’s pregnant.

You see, she’s not quite ready to tell the world. She keeps her secret hidden in the depths of her heart, the corners of her lips turning up instinctively whenever she thinks about what’s to come. Don’t rush her news, it will come in good time. She’s not ready to share her beautiful truth, so don’t ask.

You don’t know.
You can’t know.

So please, please . . . just don’t ask her if she’s pregnant.

Casey Huff

Casey is a teacher turned stay-at-home-mom. She and her husband live in rural Colorado with their two sons and two ornery Labradors. Casey blogs at Etched in Home. Her mission as a writer is to celebrate parenthood and relationships, and shine light on the reality behind it all; the good, the bad, and always the real. When she’s not writing, you can find Casey chasing her Littles around, hiding in the pantry eating chocolate, or doing anything else to avoid dealing with the always-present mountain of laundry that haunts her days. To read more from Casey, give her a follow at: Etched in Home -- Facebook Etched in Home -- Instagram