‘How’s it all going, you know, ‘down below’?”: A question I never anticipated at an industry networking event. A flustered man gestures at my newly visible baby bump, awaiting my response.

The honest truth is that “down below” is as chaotic as any identity crisis can be expected to be. But I respond, “Oh, just great thanks. My husband and I are very excited,” patting my stomach like a baker ready to work.

Lately, my body has become a frequent topic of conversation. Men have checked if my drinks are non-alcoholic, and people have touched my bump uninvited, often discussing how my body might “need time” or “bounce back”.

The prickle of dread is now commonplace when I walk into business meetings, aware that important strangers are focusing on my personal changes rather than the agenda.

Explaining to my male board that New York State offers fewer disability leave weeks for vaginal births than c-sections was a unique highlight.

Pregnancy is intensely corporeal and distinctly female. As a woman who has fought for equality in the workplace, I now find myself feeling fundamentally different from my male colleagues.

However, the idea of fighting for “same and equal” now seems questionable. If equality meant calling men with kids “working dads”, it was something I never did.

Throughout this pregnancy, I have stereotyped myself. I avoided social events, assuming no one wanted to be around a “boring pregnant woman”. I agonized over my pregnancy announcement, wanting to avoid appearing “mumsy”.

Despite advocating for a supportive workplace, I wasn’t truly bringing my whole self to work until pregnancy forcibly integrated my womanhood into my professional life.

I am striving to merge my new identity with my professional role. Wearing more dresses out of necessity is a start, but deeper challenges remain.

As a chief executive, I need to be confident and decisive, making business decisions that protect my staff and stakeholders. Yet as a mother-to-be, I need to advocate for my future family.

• My boss called me hormonal so I sued. Now I’m helping other women

Balancing my gut instincts as a founder with the hormone-driven uncertainties of pregnancy is tough. I often gaslight my own feelings, unsure which are valid.

This baby is jokingly referred to as my “second born”. Like other founders, I have deeply invested my identity in my company, Good-Loop. The thought of being equally devoted to motherhood is daunting.

The most wonderful part of this experience has been the support from other women. From the team members who left pastries on my desk, to my colleague who helped me with prenatal wear, to clients and mentors offering advice and encouragement.

Being a pregnant woman often feels like being a VW campervan owner, moving slowly and taking up space, but feeling uplifted by the nod from another in the same situation.

Small gestures can have a huge impact in moments of vulnerability. As someone rarely scrutinized in the workplace, I am resolved to offer support without waiting to be in need of it myself.

Amy Williams is the founder and chief executive of Good-Loop, a B-Corp certified technology platform that encourages engagement with online ads through charity donations