So I’m pregnant. Yes, again. That is my answer to what I’ve discovered is the most common response to this news: “You’re pregnant again?” It’s true, I do already have two toddlers and, as David Sedaris writes in his wonderful essay about families, Now We Are Five, “One or two [children] seemed reasonable, but anything beyond that struck me as outrageous.” I actually agree with this, and it seems many others do – even more strongly. “You’re having another? Why would you do that?” one person demanded to know when I told her.

As well as my two children, I’ve had the odd abortion and miscarriage, so this is not my first time on the pregnancy rodeo. And what I’ve learned in my, shall we say, full-spectrum experience is that people say weird and thoughtless things. We all do, all the time: I’ve probably said 10 strange things since breakfast, myself.

But being pregnant is a little like having a chronic illness; it seems to encourage people to say some very silly things to you, and because you are in a somewhat fragile state, you don’t just laugh them off as you might otherwise. For example, when a friend told me she had breast cancer I immediately started blabbering to her about people I knew who’d recovered from cancer, until I realised that what I thought would sound reassuring came across as a sort of gloating.

It’s strange how many of us resist giving a simple response, such as, “I’m so sorry” or, “Congratulations!” Instead, we make it about our own experiences. (Just to clarify, “I’m so sorry” is rarely a good response to pregnancy.) We bring our own neuroses to the table.

And pregnant women say dumb things, too. I once spent about 20 minutes whining about how tiring pregnancy is, only for my friend to say quietly that she’d just finished her second round of failed IVF. This is what happens when you’re so focused on the talking, you forget to do any thinking. Similarly, when I miscarried, one of the most common responses was, “Well, it’s for the best”, on the logic that the foetus had probably been damaged. That might have been true, but really isn’t what any woman needs to hear after she’s lost a baby.

I also think there’s something about pregnancy itself, the way a woman’s pregnant body seems so totally exposed, that makes people feel the usual boundaries don’t apply. The weird comments are the verbal equivalent of people coming up to you and rubbing your stomach. (For the record, if you do that to me, I will do it right back to you. Aww, look at your cute tummy!)

Obviously the ideal things to say to a pregnant woman, after “Congratulations!” are, “The loo is just over there” and, “Go on, just go back to bed for the next six months. I’ll take care of everything.” And yet instead, I get frequent questions about my manner of procreation which are definitely less fun than either bed or the loo.

During this oversensitive period it’s best to be prepared, so that these weird comments don’t wrongfoot you and swim through your head at 4am. Here, then, are some suggested responses, born from my, by now extensive, experience in this area.

I bet you’re hoping for a girl This is a very common response, because I have two boys and apparently the ideal template for a family is still the Dick and Jane books. At first I was rather flummoxed by this suggestion that I have a good chance of being disappointed by my own baby (or that I should be dismayed by the kids I have). “Oh, I don’t care as long as it’s healthy” sounds pious, and no one believes you anyway. So now I just say, “Actually, I’m having a gender-neutral theyby – boys and girls are so passé”, which tends to end this line of questioning.

You can’t be only five months – you look huge! Is this a compliment? Just an observation? Two and a half kids in and I’m still not sure, so I recommend saying, “Thanks! So do you!” right back.

Was it planned? There’s something so gothic about being asked if your baby is wanted. Clearly the only response to this is, “No, so I’ll put it in the recycling bin along with the other unsolicited junk mail.”

So was it IVF? Such open nosiness about procreation is so charmingly un-British, it’s only right to answer in a similar spirit: “Nah, it was me on top, him on the kitchen table, a little afternoon delight while the kids were at football club. So tell me, were yours the missionary position?”

Wow, you’ll have your hands full! This is meant sympathetically but it’s the kind of comment that can bring an already anxious woman to tears. Take it instead as an offer of free babysitting and thank them accordingly.