Pregnant in China

Being pregnant in China is a constant source of amusement for me.  I have a few stories for you that I think you will think is funny as well. 

-Many Chinese women will touch my belly and tell me if I am having a boy or girl.  I found this much more entertaining before we knew it was a boy.  When I ask them how they know they will say things like ‘because boy you stay pretty, girl make you ugly’  Well… thanks for guessing a girl then random stranger. 

-There have been several instances when I have asked for a cold drink and I get a disapproving look or even argued with.  Culturally they believe in large part that anything cold is not good for the baby or pregnant woman.  So far I have experienced no ill effects from a cold drink that I can tell.  I have even been at restaurants and they bring me a warm mug of water before I order anything else, this is a very kind gesture but it would be more appreciated if it wasn’t 80 degrees out and I wasn’t sweating from walking to the restaurant. 

-Radiation is another big concern for Chinese people when it comes to pregnancy.  I was getting a massage a few weeks ago and the masseuse moved my phone (which was plugged into ear phones which I was listening to) away from my belly and then told me that the phone was bad for bao bao (baby) Um.. Thanks lady but I think I'll take my chances, but if you want to ask the receptionist to stop smoking that would be a welcome improvement. 

 Radiation is such a concern to pregnant people that it is not uncommon to see a woman sporting one of these, a maternity radiation vest.

-I know that I dress differently than the typical pregnant Chinese woman which means that I wear clothes that show that I am pregnant. This is nothing that any American women wouldn’t do.  Basically I just wear clothes that show that I have legs.  Pregnant Chinese women favor a more 1950’s Mumu tent style.  This is the only explanation I have to try and explain the need for Chinese women to look at my pregnant body.  It is not uncommon to be out in my neighborhood and to see a local completely stop in her tracks to watch me walk by.  I wish I could say that I sweetly smile at them and move on my way but I get a bit irritated at the gawking so I often choose to stare back.  Unfortunately, I usually lose these staring contests and move on my way. 

What I find so funny about the special treatment is in other ways they do not find the need to provide any accommodation.  People still smoke in my face, nearly run me over on the street, cab drivers still kick me out early if they don’t want to turn around on a busy street.  So I decided to do an experiment, when we were last on the Metro I stood in front of the person occupying the ‘courtesy seat’ you know, the one with the picture of the old person with a cane, the physically handicapped person, and the pregnant lady.  I wanted Matt to capture the audacity of the person that remained in the seat.  Instead, the young man tapped politely on my bag and offered me the seat.  Humble pie never tasted so good.