The Only Time It’s Acceptable To Ask

(My daughter has had an accident at daycare where she smacked her nose pretty hard into the side of a table, so I’ve taken her to the urgent care clinic across the street. Due to the location of the injury, my husband and I have agreed to have them do an x-ray, just in case. Unfortunately, my husband has to return to work, so it’s just me with my daughter. It is important to note that I am also five-months pregnant, and it’s starting to be very obvious.)

X-Ray Tech: “Hi, Mom! We’re all ready to take [Daughter] for her x-ray.”

Me: “Great! Come on, [Daughter]. We’re going to go take a picture of the inside of your head!”

(The tech takes a better look at me, looks down at my rounded belly, looks back up at me, and puts on an impressively good poker face.)

X-Ray Tech: “I’m sorry, but um… I have to ask; is there any chance you might be pregnant?”

Me: “Yes, five months!” *smiles at her for a few seconds, and then the penny drops* “Ohhh, right.”

X-Ray Tech: “I’ll just get one of the nurses to go in with [Daughter].”

(Pregnancy brain is real!)