On being a "good" pregnant person
(And—while we're at it—a "good" anything else)
I’ll start by saying that my initial plan for this post was something along the lines of this weekend I had moments of being a weird, difficult pregnant lady and LOL I guess we’re here now! For the most part, I’ve maintained a pretty consistent, even keel over the last 29 weeks (with the exception of a shocking reaction to a lack of breakfast options about halfway through the second trimester), so it seemed significant somehow to document that I did—finally—feel like I was losing my cool the way everyone’s warned me is inevitable.
In my head, the post was going to be funny and self-deprecating, with some tongue-in-cheek references to my “poor husband” and the great unknown of this final stretch.
But then I was like…. uhhh, why?
What’s actually way more interesting to me is why it feels important to make a joke about being a “bad” pregnant person—even for a few hours over a single weekend. The fact that I have any inclination to do so tells me that we’ve been sold a questionable bill of goods about what it means to be a “good” pregnant person and that such a person even exists!
Having spent many more of my thirty-three years in a state of non-pregnancy than pregnancy, I can also confirm that these feelings and weird definitions exist for folks in other life phases. So whether you’ve felt the particular pressures of being a “good” pregnant person or a “good” some-other-kind-of person, I think you know what I’m talking about.
In no particular order, here are a few qualities that I have come to equate with a “good” pregnant person:
She embraces every element of and all of the changes that come with pregnancy with nothing but grace and gratitude. (She is also quick to gracefully transition out of pregnancy when it’s over, but I’m sure that’s a meaty topic for another day.)
She has a breezy sense of humor about stereotypical pregnancy symptoms—mood swings, cravings, forgetfulness, etc.—but only allows herself to indulge in them to a reasonable degree.
She cries enough to show that she is emotionally impacted by the experience of bringing new life into the world, but not so much as to make things awkward.
She manages to carry on with the responsibilities of her normal life pre-pregnancy (work, relationships, general life admin) while doing all of the above.
She is happy—excited!—to cooperate with the expectations that others have about how to celebrate and prepare for the new chapter that’s approaching.
She’s a great patient.
Generally, she’s beauty, she’s grace, she’s Miss United States.
I’ve already written (here and here) about some of my own struggles to figure out my personal relationship with the script I feel society—and now social media—has presented expectant and new moms. And given my history with intense perfectionism (not a humble brag—simply the truth), it really comes as no surprise that I’ve had mixed feelings about how I’ve been “performing” as a pregnant person these last few months. Over the years, I’ve felt similarly about my ability to stand up to the expectations I’ve absorbed for being “good” in other roles: a “good” bride-to-be, a “good” daughter, a “good” grieving person, a “good” citizen of social media, a “good” customer whose spent the better part of her day dealing with an automated customer service hotline… and the list goes on.
Even if you’ve never been (or never plan to be) pregnant—and even if you’ve never thought of yourself as a perfectionist—I’m confident you get what I’m saying.
Currently Reading: Mad Honey by Jodi Picoult and Jennifer Finney Boylan
While I (like much of the world) was once a HUGE Jodi Picoult fan, I’ve been out of the game for the last few years. I really liked Small Great Things but haven’t been drawn to the synopses of any of her other recent titles. When I saw that she’d collaborated with Jennifer Finney Boylan, I was intrigued! I enjoyed She’s Not There and was anxious to see what their partnership could look like. I’m less than halfway into Mad Honey at the moment, but so far, it’s feeling like a real return to form for JP.
As I beamed with pride after my doctor deemed me her “favorite kind of patient” at last week’s appointment (for what it’s worth, I am actively trying to become friends with my OB-GYN when all of this is over, so that probably had something to do with my reaction) and proceeded to feel terrible for letting my Easy Breezy Pregnant Girl vibes slip just a few days later, I realized that this might all just be… bullshit.
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to Getting It Alli Together to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.