James, a new father, gave me a sympathetic smile as he walked past all 90 kilograms of me slumped on the couch.

There were no mirrors to catch my reflection but I must have had a look on my face that read, 'yes, nervous mum-to-be'.

I've been getting a lot of sympathetic looks lately and frankly, I'm not used to it.

I've never needed sympathy from anyone. Mostly people look up to me.

But there, on the couch, in my maternity garb, I was no longer a journalist, the deputy chief of staff of a busy newsroom, but a chubby pregnant woman about to cost taxpayers $5000.

It was if all the qualifications I'd gained leading up to the day I packed up my desk to go on a years' maternity leave were suddenly erased.

It made me think, 'what is my new title?'. Am I supposed to describe myself to people as a stay-at-home mum, a professional on a years' maternity leave, a freelance writer who happens to have a baby, what?

Let's face it: we live in a world driven by titles. The euphemisms I hear people in Sydney use to describe what they do for a living is astounding.

But there, on the couch, in front of the second-richest man in Australia, I was no longer a professional about to have a baby.

I was just plain preggers.

Was it paranoia?

I'd like to hear how other pregnant women and new mums feel about 'titles' and the working vs stay-at-home issue.