In the production line

Fact: I have put on weight. A lot. 9 (NINE!!!) kilos in 5 weeks.

Fact: I have no idea how this happened. The empty pail of malteasers under my bed has nothing whatsoever to do with it. Honestly.

Fact: every time I meet an old friend/acquaintance/teacher/enemy they bring up the million dollar question - are you pregnant? And when I, as always give the shortest possible answer - NO - they ask, but why not?

The fat doesn't show all that much... only in the hefty arms and rounder than usual ass. Sadly, my bosom (why? why?) has been spared the extra padding. In other words, I don't look as if I have a basket ball cunningly hidden under my waistband. So what's wrong with these people? Do I somehow exude an aura of overt fertility? Now that I have married a suitable boy and completed my degree, is it essential that I incubate a small human being and then shove it out of my body in a very painful way?

Yesterday, I fielded THE question from 3 of my lecturers - one of whom started nearly embraced me saying "oooh, you are in the production line!" With all due respect madam, WTF? Another one solemnly advised me to have kids before getting too old because they need to have a job before I retire.

Family somehow manages to be worse... sensitivity scores are at an all time low. One aunt actually nudged my husband and suggestively remarked that he hasn't shown the family his "abilities" yet! I could only stare open mouthed in horror, and then hustle an equally shocked husband as far away from there as possible!

Another aunt patted my tummy during a pirith ceremony, eyebrows arched and when the words "are you expecting?" are met with the blunt NO, consoles me "don't worry, it'll happen soon enough!". At a completely different pirith ceremony another distant relative, hand placed protectively on my tummy coos "any good news yet?"

Aaaarrrgh!... get off my tummy will you? It's not pregnancy, it's just greed!

And there is good news dammit! I graduated in the top 5% of my batch, won a gold medal, completed a hectic internship, not only with glowing references from both my consultants, but with my sanity intact! I faced four interview panels, and competed with doctors more senior and (in my opinion at least) more qualified than me and still managed to land a dream job post that I believe will keep me happy and fulfilled. I am an office bearer in a national association and in the editorial board of an (admittedly obscure) international medical journal. I have built a wonderful, loving relationship with a really incredible guy and six years on (and in spite of marriage,) we are still going strong. And that's just the past 4 months.

It's not that I don't want children... I do... and am even ready to run the risk of them emerging with miniature pitchforks brandished defiantly. But I want to have them when I am psychologically ready to give them all the love and care and attention they need to the best of my ability. Not because my ovaries are ticking away, or because it will reduce my risk of breast cancer or because the whole world and his aunty think that I should.

I have no idea what to do... :(