Appearing visibly pregnant turns you into a minor celebrity overnight. I know, because I am now very visibly pregnant.
Formerly an invisible nobody, strangers now usher me across the road and give me priority at supermarket queues, as if carrying a child confers upon one diplomatic privilege. But this red-carpet treatment is a double-edged sword.
You’re no longer an individual with your own ambitions. Society now views you through a singular lens: an incubator for the next generation. This often means awkward, unsolicited belly pats and smiling through gritted teeth as every man and his or her dog offers their expert medical advice.
Evidently, your body is now a subject of public discourse.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s a blessing to carry a baby, particularly when many others grapple with fertility challenges. But being pregnant doesn’t mean resigning from your identity as the person you were before.
I expect some raised eyebrows from staunch traditionalists (looking at you, Grandma) for daring to suggest we overhaul the rulebook on pregnancy and post-partum behaviour. But God forbid we should give up our autonomy because “things were different back in my day”.
Let’s start with the “rules” around announcing your pregnancy in the first trimester, a time when miscarriages are most likely to occur. It’s common practice to keep quiet about your pregnancy during this time, but who is it really benefiting?
Reflecting on outdated taboos around the need to avoid “awkward conversations”, my experience is that open discussions of miscarriage are better for your mental health and help you get appropriate support. After all, we now have been afforded bereavement leave legislation in recognition of how painful miscarriage can be.
However, in some cases, it could be wise to withhold information. If sharing news about the baby’s due date will trigger an onslaught of texts from well-meaning but overbearing family and friends in those precious last moments of solitude, take a leaf from my book and give them a decoy date.
Another thing I’ve learnt is to sidestep sharing your baby’s name. Online forums are littered with tales of woe, when elated parents-to-be reveal their child’s intended moniker, only to be met with ridicule and family feuds. A simple “we’re waiting to see what suits their personality” might be the escape route you need.
Then there’s the more modern trend of the gender reveal. Should you even opt for one? There’s something empowering about embracing uncertainty in a world quick to label and categorise. Keeping gender a secret, whether for the sake of defiance or surprise, can shield against unwanted intrusions of family traditions and stereotypes.
And should you decide to indulge in said gender reveal, proceed with caution. The last thing your neighbourhood needs is another headline-grabbing stunt ending in a wildfire or explosion.
Baby showers can be another source of stress. At times, these can feel like a grand spectacle of gift-grabbing. Do you really need 10 baby blankets and a mountain of newborn rompers that your little one will outgrow faster than you can say, “They grow up so fast”?
If you’re feeling particularly introverted or not up to playing the “Guess the flavour of chocolate in the nappy” game, skip the baby shower altogether or plan a more relaxed affair on your own terms.
The saga of pregnancy continues with the oft-debated topic of the birth plan. Ideally, you’d be presented with a balanced array of choices, each with pros and cons, leaving the decision to you.
However, the reality is it’s a battlefield where your natural birth friends lock horns with those who are pro-medical interventions. As these so-called friends judge your every move, remember that you get the last laugh because your child’s birth details won’t feature on their high school application. If these friends’ incessant preaching on social media is causing you anxiety, hit the mute button.
Let’s be honest, even if you have the birth planned down to the last note of whale calls you want playing in the delivery suite, your baby — and body — may have other plans.
Another common phenomenon is that every Tom, Dick and Harry feels entitled to witness your birth, or your other half refuses to set boundaries with their side of the family on the matter. Consider likening the situation to your partner undergoing a vasectomy with your father present. You’re the patient. It’s your body, your rules.
And why feel pressured to broadcast the news of your newborn’s arrival within a matter of hours? There’s something liberating about savouring those first few days in seclusion, away from the prying eyes of WhatsApp group chats and Instagram feeds. We may live in a world of instant communication, but you don’t owe anyone an immediate announcement — not even the most enmeshed of parents.
Regarding post-delivery visitors, opinions are as varied as coffee blends. Some new mothers revel in the company, while others balk at the idea of playing hostess while in the throes of post-partum recovery.
The best visitors? Those who understand that help doesn’t mean a mandatory baby cuddle session but could entail a spot of vacuuming or bringing meals.
For those persistent relatives who insist on invading your newborn bubble, the internet-viral Lemon Clot Essay is a compelling read about setting healthy post-partum boundaries while you’re in the throes of recovery, partially clothed as you sit on the couch in adult nappies, wincing from how sore your nipples are as you attempt to breastfeed.
If you wish to take it to the extreme, consider keeping mum about your pregnancy, much like this comedic sketch by Jono and Ben that cleverly satirises the social faux pas of commenting on a woman’s body.
In the end, pregnancy is an adventure. Establishing firm boundaries might upset your family and friends, but it will preserve your peace and save you from harbouring resentment in future years. Favouring personal autonomy over tradition is the most audacious act of all.
