This archive report was first published on 12 July 2019.
On a typical morning, I found myself sitting in a gynaecologist's waiting room, surrounded by expectant mothers eagerly awaiting their appointments. As I waited, I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease, knowing that I was not pregnant, but rather there for a routine check-up.
As I sat there, I noticed the curious glances from the other patients, who seemed to be sizing me up, trying to determine if I was indeed pregnant. One of them, a woman carrying twins, approached me and asked, 'Hi, sorry to disturb you, but we've never seen you here before.' I replied, 'Hi, no bother at all, I usually come on Mondays but daktari wasn't available.'
However, my attempt to downplay the situation only seemed to pique their interest, and soon, they were all asking me questions about my supposed pregnancy. 'Ahh, daktari was on leave, if you don't mind me asking, how far along are you?' mama twins asked again. I was taken aback by their persistence and replied, 'Uhm, no I'm not pregnant.'
The expectant mummies didn't look in my direction again until I went to see the doctor. When I returned with my prescription and an abundance of tests to be done, the mummies still avoided my eyes. It was clear that they had made an assumption about me, and it was uncomfortable to say the least.
As I left the waiting room, I couldn't help but wonder why the gynaecologist's waiting room seemed to be a place where only pregnant women were welcome. It's a strange reality that I experienced firsthand, and one that I hope will change in the future.
