How do you feel about a friend, family, children or even a stranger, rubbing your pregnant tummy without asking? Does it make you shudder with horror or tingle with delight? From four months pregnant, here in Singapore, my belly starting sticking out, and I exaggerated this by sticking it out even further. I really wanted people to rub my tummy. Anyone. Just touch it! I know this is controversial – many people not only hate The Bump Rub, they find it a violation bordering on molestation.
How much bump rubbing is too much?
I always feel like a freakish predator when this conversation comes up amongst my pregnant girlfriends. “How dare anyone rub my tummy without asking? It’s disgusting!” they say. In the spirit of honesty, I have to come clean and admit that not only am I a bump rubber, but I loved mine being felt-up too. Fingers tingling at the tips, I am drawn magnetically to big, beautiful, ripe pregnant bellies. I just love them! I always have. It’s wrong, I know. Likewise, if you stick your hand out, my belly will come and rub itself on your hand.
Not one to make excuses for people’s bump-rubbing tendencies, I have worked hard on learning to ask first before rubbing. It seems that people have become more attuned and educated to ladies’ aversion to The Bump Rub, which is sad for people like me.
But wait, there’s more …
Now that I’ve come clean about my shameless perversion, I have another confession to make. Having been sober for over nine months before and during my pregnancy, I’ve become aggressive about wanting to watch my friends drink alcohol – in a way that an extreme-dieter likes to watch someone eat a greasy burger. “Drink!” I urge friends over lunch dates. However these days, whether out of perceived respect or pity, my people are not drinking around me.
Mercifully, all my wishes finally came true at the wonderful baby shower girlfriends threw in my honour. Like an old crusty man hosting a bikini party, I requested that my shower come with a free-flow option – so I could watch people drink, and drink they did. Then, the grand finale, someone who’d truly taken advantage of the free-flow came, with hands outstretched, towards my tummy asking, “Can I?” My belly firmly in her hands, a consensual rub fest took place in the middle of a hotel high tea buffet. It was delightful.
I’m not alone. These HoneyKids mums bravely confessed their pregnancy ‘perversions’:
Selina Altomonte, mum to two under five
Much to my husband’s disgust, I had an obsession with pickling things during my pregnancies. Sure, craving a gherkin is a cliche, but I wanted to DO the pickling. I even attempted to make my own sauerkraut, and stayed up till 2am on one frenzied fermenting mission. This all might sound delightful to our friends from the Baltic regions, but it actually turned into a science experiment gone wrong in our kitchen and I haven’t been able to touch the stuff since.
Brynie McBurney, mum to three under five
I was absolutely obsessed with eating ice during all three of my pregnancies. Literally crunching down on blocks, day and night, at home and in the office, until my teeth felt numb. I was even crunching ice in bed (drove my husband nuts, plus romance killer FYI). I became a little crazy if the ice tray wasn’t refilled at home (hormones – look out!). It wasn’t any old ice either, because that would be too easy. The ice had to be a certain size. I’d get upset in restaurants if the cubes were too big – and was over the moon when they delivered the right ‘crushed but not too crushed’ gems of icy perfection! I’d like to apologise to McDonalds: it was me who ordered “just a cup of ice” at the drive-through – a few (okay, many!) times.
What was your pregnancy perversion?
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