The other day, I congratulated a woman I am very fond of on her recent pregnancy announcement, to which she paused for a moment, chuckled, and said in an amused voice, “Did you know I was pregnant?”

My cheeks and forehead turned red-hot immediately. I tried to play it cool: “Did someone say something?” 

I remember telling one person I thought she may be expecting — something I cannot believe I am admitting. I wholeheartedly subscribe to the notion that you cannot ask someone if they are pregnant, and otherwise commenting on the state of someone’s body, especially whether or not they are with child, is taboo in general. 

Alas, my need to prove my suspicions correct briefly outweighed my moral compass. It happens? 

“No,” she said — phew — “I just saw the way you looked at me,” she stopped for a second and smiled, looking down as if looking at someone’s stomach before continuing, “And I had a feeling you had a feeling.” Shoot. 

I immediately thought of the time she was likely referencing; it was when I began suspecting she may be with child. She was standing with her hands on her stomach and her head tilted back. Her eyes were closed and her lip turned up in what appeared to be a smile before she quickly smoothed her (very cute) jumpsuit and turned to talk to someone standing near her. 

I don’t know what was going through her mind, maybe the baby was kicking and what looked like a smile to me was really a wince. Or, maybe, in a passing moment where she had nothing else to think about, she chose to think about the honestly divine process happening in her body. She couldn’t help but smile because of it. 

Having never been pregnant before, I can only imagine the wave of emotions that must come during basic self reflection. You’re going through your daily routine one minute, and the next you’re cognizant of how your changing body is only the beginning of a completely new chapter in your life. 

And to think, all of that just from touching your stomach. 

I have not always had the best relationship with my stomach, and I don’t mean my bowel movements, although that relationship isn’t great either. It was the first part of my body I was self conscious of. I remember being super young, I couldn’t have been older than seven when I noticed the rolls of my stomach in a photo of me sitting. 

Something I’m ashamed to admit is that, despite my attempts at neutrality towards my stomach now, I still sometimes find myself pinching the flesh of my abdomen out of habit, as if to say, “This shouldn’t be here.”

When trying to love and understand my body, I often think about pregnancy. Growing up in a world where futuristic technological advancements are developed almost daily, I tend to take the human body and its natural capabilities for granted. 

But when I think about it, there are very few phenomena cooler than the capability some people have to create new people. I may not always love my body aesthetically, but I have no choice but to respect how freaking cool it is. I might be pregnant one day — how amazing is that? 

So, picture me, seeing a woman I really appreciate having this beautiful moment with her body — of course I was staring like an idiot! On a serious note, though, how to tell if someone is pregnant? They tend to wear a ton of jumpsuits. 

Sylvie Slotkin is a Medill sophomore. She can be contacted at [email protected]. If you would like to respond publicly to this op-ed, send a Letter to the Editor to [email protected]. The views expressed in this piece do not necessarily reflect the views of all staff members of The Daily Northwestern.