One of the great joys of pregnancy is sharing the details of the changes going on in our unborn children’s lives with friends, family, and complete strangers I randomly meet while waiting for the subway train

When kids are older (i.e. out of the womb), you can brag about their eating habits, ability to track objects, and innate understanding of quantum mechanics. But while in the womb, about all you can do is show the occasional ultrasound and reference websites or apps that describe the developmental stages the fetus is going through.

My beloved shared a couple of these websites with me, but I was struck by the way the fetuses were always compared to fruit. Thinking there must be something better, and less food-fixated, I finally downloaded Sprout for the iPad since our OBGYN recommended it.

Alas, even the good people at Sprout must be using hungry, pregnant women to write their content, as every entry relates the size of womb-bound babies to food. At fifteen weeks, our twins have morphed from the size of sesame seeds to grains of rice, peas, blueberries, grapes, olives, shrimp, figs, key limes, small lemons, avocados, and next week they will be back to lemons again.

I don’t know about you, but I’m beginning to suspect that the whole thing is simply a recipe for some elaborate fruit salad with shrimp. The only downside is it will take me 40 weeks to get the entire recipe.

Then again, perhaps it is for the best. I mean, if it were written by men, we would probably have to read how the baby is now the size of a Vienna sausage, a small hot dog, a chicken leg, a pork chop, and a decent cut of steak.

Still, I could not help but wonder why descriptions were not simply given in length and weight – and then I remembered those words of wisdom handed down to me by my father and his forefathers before him: “No two pregnancies are alike and every pregnancy is different for the father.”

Truer words were never spoken: first we had one child, now we’re expecting twins. Applying my daughter’s background in quantum mechanics, I can assure you there is no way we are going to risk having triplets next.

Fruit salad anyone?

Photo by elefevre7 via Flickr

On the ride home to Ciyunsi Qiao a few weeks ago, a pregnant young woman walked onto the 740 bus. She sat next to an old lady who took a lively interest in her belly. Their conversation went something like this. 

• Old woman: "When are you due?"
• Young woman: "About two months from now.”
• Old woman (in a raised voice): "You’re already seven months pregnant? Your baby bump is too small!

The younger woman politely shrugged off the comment, but I cringed from my seat several rows away. The exchange reminded me of a conversation I’d had with a new mom. "I didn’t have much of a baby bump, even at nine months," she told me. "I didn’t worry about it too much because the baby was healthy, but you’d be surprised how many people care." She told me stories of complete strangers walking up to her and saying things like:

• Are you eating properly?
• Are you sick?
• Are you exercising too much?
• Have you spoken to your doctor?
• That means you’re going to have a small baby. 

I was blown away. Do people really think it’s okay to lecture a total stranger about the size of her baby bump? Full disclaimer: I’ve never been pregnant, so I don’t know what it’s like to receive comments on my baby belly. But I am a woman, and I don’t appreciate any situation in which someone becomes the target of bodysnarking.

The term “bodysnarking” was coined by women’s blog Jezebel in 2008. It refers to any kind of catty nitpicking perpetrated by women against other women about body issues like age, weight, or appearance. A notorious example is our obsession with celebrity culture, as seen from splashy headlines like “45 Best and Worst Beach Bodies” and “Stars Lose Fight with Cellulite.

To be fair, the old lady on the bus probably had good intentions. As expats, we’re well aware that topics that might be considered off-limits in the West—weight, income, baldness, bad skin, baby bumps—are fair game in China. Still, I couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable at a woman being called out on her appearance during such a complex period of physical and emotional changes. 

More information:

– “The Rise of Bodysnarking” by Hannah Seligson of the Wall Street Journal
– "This Year, Let’s Call It Quits on the Nasty Nit-Picking” by Anna Holmes, editor-in-chief of Jezebel
– Tell us what you think on the beijingkids discussion forum