Pregnant Colleague Told 'Keep Your Legs Shut' in Workplace Insult
As I made my way from the car park to the office, moving slowly due to my advanced pregnancy, a sharp voice called out from behind me. "Are you sure you're only carrying one?" the voice asked. At eight months pregnant, with numerous complications that left me in constant pain and struggling to breathe, I didn't find this initial question particularly intrusive. My body felt like it was carrying quadruplets rather than a single baby, and waddling had become my only mode of transportation.
The Crushing Insult
What came next, however, made me see red. The colleague stuck her head back out of the window and shouted, "I bet you wish you'd kept your legs shut now!" before bursting into laughter as if she had delivered the funniest joke imaginable. The comment landed like a physical blow, leaving me feeling punched in the gut. I couldn't believe someone would have the audacity to shout such a thing at a heavily pregnant woman, especially in a workplace environment, and particularly from someone with whom I had no close relationship.
The Hidden Struggle
What this woman didn't know was how desperately I had wanted to become pregnant and how hard I had struggled to conceive. For over a year, I had been militant about my efforts: taking tablets, tracking ovulation with strips and apps, checking online forums for advice, trying various diets, and meticulously timing intimacy with my partner. Each month that passed without conception felt like another failure of my body, taking a significant mental toll. The false hopes were particularly devastating—positive pregnancy tests that turned into pain, tears, and quickly discarded bloodied tissues.
When I finally conceived, after considerable strain on my relationship, it almost felt too good to be true. This anxiety manifested as intense stress throughout my first trimester, convinced I would miscarry at any moment. While the pregnancy initially progressed well, complications soon emerged.
Medical Complications and Workplace Insensitivity
My pregnancy was immediately classified as high risk due to pre-existing hypothyroidism, requiring increasingly regular appointments, scans, and blood tests to monitor both my health and the baby's. I had never felt so consistently ill and in pain. Around four months, I developed excess fluid, followed by a diabetes diagnosis just weeks later. The third trimester brought pelvic pain and rapid fluid retention approximately two weeks before induction.
To compound these challenges, I was diagnosed with polyhydramnios (excess amniotic fluid), gestational diabetes, pelvic girdle pain, and severe fluid retention that left me unable to stand or walk without crying. As soon as I began sharing news of my pregnancy, people seemed to feel entitled to ask intrusive personal questions about conception, with most assuming it had been accidental—an utterly demeaning experience.
Workplace Response and Aftermath
After the car park incident, I immediately told my team what had happened. One colleague who understood my fertility journey and had witnessed previous moments of devastation agreed the comments were despicable. I considered reporting the incident to HR, but the company's cliquey culture made me fear my concerns wouldn't be taken seriously. Instead, I kept my head down and successfully avoided the colleague until my maternity leave began.
In February 2020, just three weeks before national lockdowns began, I was induced into a 16-hour labor featuring back-to-back contractions that never stopped. An emergency episiotomy and forceps delivery finally brought my baby into the world. The colleague's comments still haunt me today—especially given how desperately I had wanted motherhood and how hard I had struggled with fertility.
Moving Forward
When I became pregnant again ten months later (thankfully through a quicker process), I decided to leave the company. Upon returning from maternity leave, I was being moved between departments without receiving appropriate compensation for my work. Leaving proved the best decision for both my career and mental health. My second pregnancy mirrored the first medically, though I was better prepared emotionally. Being mostly in lockdown during 2021 meant I rarely encountered people outside my bubble and medical team—a situation for which I was actually thankful, as it spared me from unwanted stomach touches and insensitive comments.
This experience has taught me profound lessons about empathy and restraint. When I see heavily pregnant women struggling with their mobility, I never make assumptions about their pregnancy choices or disguise insensitive remarks as jokes. Instead, I offer a sympathetic smile. You never know what someone has endured, and as I now teach my two children: if you have nothing nice to say, sometimes it's better to say nothing at all.
