Keep Your Hands OFF My Pregnant Belly

There are a lot of things to be excited about when you get pregnant: Seeing your first ultrasound, hearing the heartbeat, choosing a baby name, feeling the baby kick. But being pregnant also, unfortunately, means that your body becomes public domain, free for people to grope and fondle at will. People — friends, family members, and strangers alike — think they suddenly have the right to touch you whenever they feel like it, rubbing your belly as if it’s suddenly become acceptable to touch someone without their permission. News flash: This is not ok.

I am not an overly affectionate person in general, but from friends and family members, I can handle a hug here and there. What I cannot stand is to have my belly rubbed. And yet it always happens! People find out that I’m pregnant, and their reaction is, for some insane reason, to rub my belly, as if it somehow does anything besides send me into a sheer panic as I try to rapidly come up with a way to get away from this person who just put their hands on me, uninvited. It’s bad enough when people I know do it; when strangers do it, they’re just lucky that I’m too pregnant to move quickly. Otherwise, they’d likely get ninja-punched.

It always happens without them asking for permission first, too. You become pregnant and suddenly, people think it’s acceptable to walk up to a woman and literally put their hands on her without bothering to get her consent first. People — again, this is not OK!! There are no other circumstances under which it’s considered A-OK to put your hands on a woman without getting her permission first, especially if you’re a perfect stranger. I’m fairly certain it’s a crime, actually. Yet put a tiny human inside a woman, and it’s open season on the groping!

Not all women will feel the same way I do, of course; some women don’t mind having their bellies rubbed. And that’s fine. Me? I literally feel violated. The feelings that flash through my mind are not positive; they’re things like panic, horror, rage, embarrassment. And all I can do is stand there and endure it, because Lord knows that if I speak up, somehow I’m the one who is the bad guy for not allowing people to share in the joy of my pregnancy, or something. I tried telling people no a few times; each time I did, the person would react as if I had slapped them, clearly hurt and offended. In one case, they tried to rub my belly anyway, and I had to physically dodge their hands. What part of “no” don’t you get? And why am I the villain here? Because I didn’t want a stranger rubbing my stomach? I must have missed the part about pregnancy where my stomach no longer belongs to me, but to the public at large. I get there’s a baby in there, but people, I’m not Buddha. There’s no magical power to be had by rubbing my stomach. Nothing’s going to happen, except a possible blood pressure spike by a very angry mother.

There are some mom bloggers out there who think it’s fine to rub women’s pregnant bellies, that we should just grin and bear it (like this one, who literally said women should stop complaining about it). Sorry, but no. If you like having your belly touched, then fine — let people rub away. But not all women want to be touched, especially not by perfect strangers, and being pregnant does not mean they no longer have the right to decide whether or not people can grope them. I’m pretty certain non-pregnant people would not be thrilled if I walked up to them and started rubbing their stomachs at random. It’s not something we should have to just accept or endure. Yes, there’s a new life in there. There’s a tiny person who looks like a cute little alien just kicking away, and you’re excited. But unless I invite you to feel the baby kick or touch my stomach, then it should be simple: Don’t touch my stomach.

Cassy Fiano-Chesser
Cassy Fiano-Chesser is a Jacksonville native and mom to six kids. Her husband is a Marine Corps veteran and Purple Heart recipient. She works from home as a blogger and a freelance writer, and they currently live in the Argyle area of Jacksonville. Benjamin is their oldest, born in 2011, and he loves being a big brother. Wyatt was born in 2012, and he has Down syndrome. Ivy came next, in 2013, followed by Clara, born in 2015, who is a diva-with-a-capital-D. Rounding out the brood is Felicity, born in 2017, and Lilly, born in 2007. They love discovering things to do on the First Coast and going on family adventures, as well as cheering on the Jumbo Shrimp and the Icemen.

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