As I enter my final few weeks of pregnancy, I sometimes worry about ordering a cup of coffee. Too often, the barista responds, “Decaf?” or a stranger within earshot wonders aloud whether I’m “allowed” to drink that.
It’s not just coffee. When I was pregnant with my daughter, a waitress balked at my husband and my order of labneh, and a co-worker expressed shock that I was eating sushi (never mind that I’m vegetarian, and the sushi in question involved avocados and cucumbers). Read the rest of this entry →