THERE'S something about pregnancy that seems to make people abandon all social etiquette.

Boundaries that would never normally be crossed don't blur so much as disappear altogether - and it can happen anywhere, anytime and with anyone.

Since the day I began to show I've had dozens of complete strangers come up to me and ask to touch my bump.

Others haven't asked, but have just gone for it.

"Ohhhh, I can feel them kicking!" said one woman, who I happened to be queueing next to in a shop.

At a friend's wedding recently I ended up spending the night wielding a cushion (and sometimes Smithy) like a shield because an uncle on the groom's side wouldn't stop rubbing my belly while exclaiming: "Ahhh! It's a little baby! Come over here (insert name of anyone who happened to be standing nearby) and have a feel! It's a baby!"

His hands would suddenly appear from any direction and the "it's a baby" routine would begin all over again, while I cringed, 'accidentally' elbowed him in the head and tried to make my getaway.

Now I'm the size of Jupiter it's clear the baby is due any day so I also seem to have become a counselling service for anybody who has ever had/known/seen a baby.

"My cousin had a terribly traumatic labour," I was told yesterday by the woman on the till at the supermarket.

"It wasn't just the indescribable pain - which is obviously to be expected - but she said the amount of blood... Well let's just say she and the baby are both lucky to be alive!"

I think I must have turned a greyish-green colour because she quickly clarified: "Don't worry though, they lived! And the baby regained full use of her limbs eventually!"

A man in the Post Office last week also felt compelled to pass on some pearls of wisdom, which included: "Don't listen to the midwives cos they're all chatting rubbish."

Apparently his wife refused to do anything the hospital staff told her and, after a 34 hour labour which ended in an emergency c-section, she was "absolutely fine".

"Well, thanks for the awful tip that I'm immediately going to ignore," I said.

"But I actually just wanted a book of first class stamps, if that's okay?"

He nodded.

"Sure. But while you're here, let me tell you what happened to my sister..."

So I'm now mentally preparing myself for the next stage - actually having the baby here.

No doubt there'll be lots of well-meaning advice coming my way over the next few months over the way I'm holding/feeding/breathing around her.

But for anybody who thinks such advice is welcome, I've gathered several helpful hints of my own - and rather pleasingly, because I'll be so busy with the baby, they're all a nice, concise four letters long.