One of the wonderful things about being pregnant is the smiles it spreads. Everywhere I went, whilst in that rotund state, people I did and didn't know grinned when they saw my bulge. It constantly reminded me of the day I graduated from university and spent the day in robes. Many strangers would smile and congratulate me. It was nice.
I often used my pregnancy to diffuse tension, particularly at work. A colleague was griping to me about something that was really getting him down and I knew nothing I could say would help him to feel better. So I told him that I had just felt some kicking (which I had) and his face changed instantly. From the wrinkled forehead and the lowered brows, the tensed jaw and the moody eyes, his brooding countenance cleared, a big smile appeared and he went away happy. It was lovely to have that ability to change someone's mood from pugilistic to pleased.
There is a down side. Many people, particularly those who have not recently experienced pregnancy, think you, the gravid one, should be joyfully blissed-out all the time. I call it The Madonna Syndrome (as in Mary, not Ciccone). It is a completely unrealistic expectation. You are carrying around extra weight, extra blood, and a little kicking machine that at times aims right for the painful parts. You are also experiencing odd hormonal surges, strange discharges, aches in muscles that have never complained before, and often near eternal hunger. You may also be ambivalent about the coming baby and the changes it will create in your life, particularly if this is your first child. These are not things that generally result in a constant state of bliss.
On the whole being the bearer of good tidings is fun. It becomes less fun when it transforms into bearing the burden of judgement, which The Ex-Expat wrote about a while back, and no doubt that issue will be canvased here again and again in the future. But I hope in times to come that I remember this post, and the experiences that inspired it, and recall how rewarding it was to be the bearer of good tidings.
I often used my pregnancy to diffuse tension, particularly at work. A colleague was griping to me about something that was really getting him down and I knew nothing I could say would help him to feel better. So I told him that I had just felt some kicking (which I had) and his face changed instantly. From the wrinkled forehead and the lowered brows, the tensed jaw and the moody eyes, his brooding countenance cleared, a big smile appeared and he went away happy. It was lovely to have that ability to change someone's mood from pugilistic to pleased.
There is a down side. Many people, particularly those who have not recently experienced pregnancy, think you, the gravid one, should be joyfully blissed-out all the time. I call it The Madonna Syndrome (as in Mary, not Ciccone). It is a completely unrealistic expectation. You are carrying around extra weight, extra blood, and a little kicking machine that at times aims right for the painful parts. You are also experiencing odd hormonal surges, strange discharges, aches in muscles that have never complained before, and often near eternal hunger. You may also be ambivalent about the coming baby and the changes it will create in your life, particularly if this is your first child. These are not things that generally result in a constant state of bliss.
On the whole being the bearer of good tidings is fun. It becomes less fun when it transforms into bearing the burden of judgement, which The Ex-Expat wrote about a while back, and no doubt that issue will be canvased here again and again in the future. But I hope in times to come that I remember this post, and the experiences that inspired it, and recall how rewarding it was to be the bearer of good tidings.
1 comment:
I know exactly what you mean, Julie. I smile at expectant mothers, and I recall getting the same smiles myself, especially at the nine month stage. It started earlier when my twins were on their way, at about six months. Eventually, when I got to eight months, complete strangers looked at me with a puzzled look, and then said, "You've got two in there, haven't you?"
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