The Real Baby Thing

Whilst in the hospital, we had midwives doing routine checks every two hours or so, blood pressure, tempertaure, that sort of thing.
One midwife arrived while we had mum and Barb visiting. She stood at the door until the visit finished up. She had a stony look on her face, but I dont think she was cranky, I think it was just her face! She was large, hard, formidable looking woman and I felt rather intimidated.
She began her checks and I apologised for keeping her waiting while I was talking to my visitors. She smiled and said "that's quite all right. I was late myself. I was busy doing the real baby thing."
At first I wasnt sure I had heard right. I did a double take. Had she really just said that? The "real baby" thing? What was my baby? Pretend? Non existent? I looked at her incredulously, but she was quite oblivious to her words and hummed contentedly as she felt my abdomen.
A comment made without malice, and without thinking. I couldnt blame her, she didnt know any better.
I'd have to get used to it. There were plenty more unthinking comments to follow once we were in the outside world.