Pregnant Women are Smug?

A few years ago, an awesome comedy duo released a brilliant song. Then they released an amazing video to go with it.

It's funny, it's insightful, it's, in many cases, highly accurate.

My friends actually introduced me to this one when I first told them I was pregnant. We all laughed, and I promised not to be too self-satisfied on this journey.

Frankly, I think I've done a pretty good job, but then most pregnant women probably think they are the exception. I've admitted that pregnancy is not a magical time full of life-affirming feelings and getting in touch with my inner goddess or whatever. Pregnancy is hard, often uncomfortable, and as terrifying and weird as it is awkward and tedious. I'm exhausted, emotional, stressed out, and frequently sore and in pain thanks to random bodily changes that I had no way of anticipating. I haven't tried to sugar coat any of that when my friends ask me how things are going, and I've done my best to quiet down the complaining, because, after all, this (or the end result) is something I want.

So the other day, I was a bit put off when a friend of mine started humming the above song when I said a single positive thing about being pregnant. The friend had asked if I was enjoying my pregnancy, and I admitted that while "enjoying" was putting it in more positive terms than I would usually choose, that there was something unquestionably cool about doing what I'm doing. I think I used the term "bad ass" to explain how strong and proud I feel that I can actually make a person, despite the many discomforts and weird sensations that go along with it.

My friend hummed the song, and it instantly shut me up. After all, I didn't want to appear "smug" about my pregnancy.

But, in a lot of ways, that's really not fair. I am more than happy to applaud my friends when they accomplish awesome things or do something they are proud of. I am genuinely happy for them and will celebrate with them, because they are my friends. They usually will celebrate with me, as well, when I achieve something of note, or do something impressive. Why is being pregnant different? Yeah, it's a biological process, and there's little I'm consciously doing to stitch together this person inside of me. But for anyone who doubts that it requires a great deal of effort, patience, and energy to accomplish simply surviving a pregnancy with a smile on your face has never dealt with round ligament pain, back aches, or feet stuck in their ribs.

I think I'm allowed to be a little bit proud of myself for what I'm doing here, and I don't think it's unreasonable to feel that way. Pregnancy is hard, and I would hope that I deserve a little more respect for what I'm going through. Yes, it's my choice to be knocked up, and it's my choice to give up my body and my free time to create the family I want. I know, or at least had an idea, of what I was signing up for when I embarked on this journey. That doesn't mean I don't deserve more than to be mocked when I actually take pride or feel excitement or joy in what is happening to me.

So while I enjoy the video and appreciate the humor of mocking the sanctimonious high some women get when they get knocked up, I don't appreciate it being wielded as a weapon by people I care about to get me to be quiet about my experiences or downplay what I'm going through. It's not nice, and it shows a distinct lack of respect for me as a person and as a mother to be.

Defending Life Choices

A friend of mine recently complained about how many people have been questioning her decision not to get married or have kids. She says that she is constantly having to defend herself and her life against those that naturally assume that when you get to a certain age that you are to settle down, pair up, reproduce, and stagnate. She says she has gotten pressure from her friends, from her family, and even from strangers about how it's obviously time to take those next steps and start having kids

I have had just the opposite problem. Now in my third trimester, I am obviously pregnant. Gone is the little bump that only I can see, and instead there is the massive soccer-ball sized mound that attests to my current position on procreation.

And I'm having to constantly defend my decision to have kids.

It may be a testament to where we both are in our lives and the people we surround ourselves with, but many of my friends cannot fathom why I would subject my body, finances, and future to the whims of a small person who will inevitably become the center of my world. As many arguments as my friend has faced about why it's only natural to have children, I have had to face down the logical and reasonable arguments about why it is utterly insane to bring any one new into this world.

Luckily, I haven't had to defend my choice to my family, as they are more than supportive and excited, and frankly, most strangers seem to derive a great deal of excitement and joy in asking whether it's my first, boy or girl, and how soon I'm due. But it has been a surprise to find that for many of the people in my life, the idea of having a child is not only crazy, but irresponsible and selfish.

It's interesting to compare the arguments my friend and I have faced. The arguments for having children have mostly revolved around the idea that it's "natural," "it's what people do at [her] age." "it's what the woman's body is made for," "nothing else will give [her] more purpose or joy," and "it's [her] responsibility to her family and to her future." Mine on the other hand have been more logical, revolving around the incredible responsibility, the amount of sacrifice, and the contribution to the overpopulation of the planet (yes, really).

The thing is, the arguments against having a child are harder to fight against than the reasons to actually go forward with it. Why do people have children when they will have to give up sleeping in, to give up the freedom to do what you want when you want, to give up the time to devote to yourself and your own personal dreams and instead focus on someone you will, of course love, but might not even like that much? Why put your body through the pain of labor, the indignity of losing your figure, the months and months without regular wine or cocktails? Why would you give up hundreds of thousands of dollars, setting yourself up for debt and giving up the freedom that comes with an unfettered cash flow? Even if you really want children, why not adopt? Why contribute to the overpopulation of the planet by insisting on having your own kid?

I don't think the reasons to have a child of your own are entirely logical, but I also don't think they have to be. Many people will of course fall into the idea of parenthood because of the very reasons my friend has had to defend against: it's natural, it's traditional, it's biological, and it's common assume that it is one of the purposes of human life. There are very strong religious arguments in favor of procreation, but there are also political, intellectual, and ethical reasons to have kids.

But I don't know that any of those played a crucial part in motivating me or my husband into it. (To be fair, my husband's reasons are probably very different from mine, and, I imagine, the fact that I strongly wanted children was one of his prime motivators.) For me, family has always been an important part of my life. The relationships I have with my parents and my sisters as well as my grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousin, have all been strong influences in my life. Making them proud, living up to their hopes, and just being a part of a family have been important to me, even when I was off pursuing my own interests and dreams. There's never been a question that I wanted to spend my life near them and be a part of this family for the rest of my days. My family is part of how I define myself, and I'm proud of that fact.

Having children and continuing that family with my husband is one of my main goals in life. My husband is the most important person in my life, and one the best ways I think I can show my love for him is to build a family with him. To create a new family unit that is as defining and pivotal as my extended family. To build something new and wonderful and important that is truly a reflection of us and our love for each other. That to me is a worthy goal, and pursuing that will likely be the most important thing I do with my life.

My life is wonderful as it is, and I imagine I could be happy without children. I could continue writing, enjoying time with my incredible friends, building a financially secure future with my husband, and doing our own things until we can't anymore. But I think I would regret not pursuing something a little bigger, a little better. I think children can make my life fuller, allow me to love so much more, to be a part of something so much greater than myself. Sure there's the biological urge, and the idea that it is what you do when you're happily married and moving into middle age. For me, though, having this baby is about building something bigger for me and my husband. We're building a family. And that is reason enough.