When someone says, "Congratulations on your marriage. When are you having a baby?" this is what I hear: "So, are you and your new husband fornicating during the seven-day potential ovulation window in order to make a tiny human that you will push out of your body?"

When you put it like that, it sounds pretty intrusive, right?

I hadn't considered just how intrusive it really was until I was asked not once but seven times at the same event.

As a woman who has been married for just under a year, it seems the norm for people to ask me when they can expect to see my pregnancy announcement on Instagram or Facebook.


For me, the owner of the life, body and financial circumstances that will all be changed by a baby, I have three major issues with the question:

Firstly, what if I just don't want to have children? Years of sleep deprivation, extra cleaning and nappy changes may not be everyone's cup of tea, and that's completely fair enough.

Secondly, what if I can't have children? That's a genuine concern for many women.

Thirdly, what if I had suffered a miscarriage or was struggling to get pregnant? Your nosey question would be the icing on an already sh*t cake.

Should none of the above be the case and I do want and am able to have children in the future, why on earth would I have that very personal conversation with anybody except my husband?

Why should I tell you when I essentially plan on having unprotected sex and making the biggest emotional, financial - not to mention longest - commitment of my life?

For those who still don't understand, let me flip the situation: How would you feel if I outright asked how often you are having sex, and for what purpose? Because that right there is the question you're asking me.

There are myriad other reasons why somebody might feel uncomfortable answering this question, from financial hardship or difficult living arrangements to health issues or fear of discrimination, just to name a few.

So I urge you to stop asking this question, for our sake and your own potential embarrassment.

Don't hint at it. Don't joke about it. And for the love of God, please don't ask me why I'm not drinking and follow it up with a cheeky wink. Nothing is worse than the cheeky wink.

*This fed-up new bride wishes to remain anonymous