I joke with my partner on occasion that I’m a boring pregnant woman. We have read all sorts of blogs and followed tons of threads with pregnancy stories. Disappointingly, I have yet to do anything super irrational or “pregnant” worth noting. I’m not one of those women whose partner gets to post about her crazy antics. There are no 3:00am demands for ice cream or sudden bursting into tears for me. I always find these stories amusing, so I jest that I wish I was a more irrational pregnant woman. My partner does not seem to share my sentiment.
There is a certain story that the U.S. society tells about pregnant women though. They are more irrational, their moods are all over the place, they will cry more easily. It’s basically every stereotype we have about women on their periods, but amplified and multiplied by 9 (10) months. I find it is yet one more way to invalidate women though. It’s always just “the hormones” or because I’m pregnant. The worst is that I often don’t realize how much I internalize these stereotypes that are told to me over and over and over again.
Early in my pregnancy, I heard about every stereotype I should expect to suffer from. Pregnancy brain, forgetfulness, mood swings, ridiculous food cravings, nesting, you name it. So one day in late December I attended a work event. At some point in time, I took off my hat and gloves and set them down. Food, good conversations, and a number of phone calls later and I left without grabbing them. Later in the day, when I went to put my hat on, I realized it was missing. Well I couldn’t remember exactly where I put it so I had to retrace my footsteps (which is what I do when I misplace things even when not pregnant). In this process, I mentioned my plight to a male co-worker, who hadn’t seen them, but was happy to inform me that it was normal to forget things while pregnant.
Eventually I made my way back to the building they had been left in. I asked about them in passing to a female co-worker, who said she hadn’t seen them. I grinned, remarking on my pregnancy or something to that effect, essentially saying that I had forgotten where they were because I was pregnant. Her comment, without judgment, was simply “Way to live up to those stereotypes.”
Her comment struck me and gave me room for pause. Once I found my missing attire, I put the day’s events back into context. Maybe I didn’t forget my hat and gloves because I was pregnant. Maybe it was because I had been having such a pleasant time at the event that they weren’t on my mind when I left. Maybe it was because I had received a surprise phone call from my father letting me know he would be in town the following Monday. Maybe it was because I received an emergency phone call that I had to leave the room quickly and tend to. So really, any normal reason that any person, pregnant or not, male or female, might forget something.
I mention my female co-worker’s comment because it was strangely liberating to me. She was essentially telling me that not every action that I had was going to be because I was pregnant. And I didn’t have to act out every symptom of pregnancy that every person who had ever been pregnant (or whose wife was pregnant or they had a friend who was pregnant or they saw a pregnant woman on TV once) had ever had. My pregnancy was uniquely mine.
Maybe I do cry, but it’s because something is genuinely wrong (look at who is President of the United States, plenty of room for tears), not just because I’m pregnant. And I’m sure I will continue to forget things, but I hold a lot on my plate, so that isn’t unusual. Not everything that happens to me over these next few months will be because I’m pregnant. What is more, to invalidate my feelings or responses or experiences is unfair to myself and to other women in the world.
So take this as an invitation. Not just for pregnant women, but for all individuals facing stereotypes. Don’t invalidate yourself and your feelings and your experiences just because you are pregnant or female or of a different race or religion. What you feel can be yours. And if there is a stereotype you don’t want to be cast in, you don’t have to act it out. The only person who can know what is true for you, is you.
