Fertility politics and other horror stories

Pregnancy is not always cute. Not to everyone. Because the one thing a pregnant woman reminds you of, in an in-your-face sort of way, is that she is pregnant and you are not. Or that she is married (for the purpose of convenience, I haven’t included pregnancies out of wedlock) and you are not. Or she is fertile and you are not. Or she is having sex and you are not. Or she’s in for the long haul and you are not. Or she is simply ready and you are not.
Unlike marriage, boyfriends, affairs or relationships, which can be camouflaged and on which information can be shared only on a need-to-know basis, pregnancy is out there and very public. On one hand, it makes things look bright and beautiful (at least to the couple involved). But it also changes the dynamics of relationships – at work, among friends, in your social circle, in the family – sometimes resulting in turbulence.

If you have a full-time job, you’ll be spending at least a third of your day at work. A pregnant woman with her belly prop somewhat rocks the oestrogen atmosphere in the space  around her. When I got pregnant, it was almost like I had betrayed the rest of my ilk at work and would no longer be synchronised with their biological cycles.
It was official. I didn’t belong. I was an outcast. I ate too much, peed too much, tired too easily, sat too much, felt sleepy a lot, yawned too much, and smiled a lot. No one told me any gossip anymore, hardly anyone bitched to me, no one asked me if I wanted to ‘hang out’ after work. People tend to think you are too zoned out to want any of this when you are pregnant.
Most other mommies at work pretended they didn’t remember what it was to be pregnant (if they had a baby three or more years ago). They looked at me like I was part of some lofty science experiment. It’s like smug-marrieds totally forgetting what it was like to be single.
On the other hand, to single women, I was a reality check. Is this what it will come to? Can they see themselves doing this? Or does it totally scare the shit out of them?

(An excerpt from my book “I’m Pregnant, Not Terminally Ill, You Idiot!“)

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5 thoughts on “Fertility politics and other horror stories

  1. I’m a really private extrovert (yes yes, we exist !), so when I was pregnant, I didn’t want anyone to know. I wanted it to be this beautiful, crazy, scary-as-shit secret thing that I shared only with my husband. It was only when morning sickness kicked in like there’s no tomorrow, that my husband somehow convinced me that we should at least let our moms know (his is a doctor… and he made the calls).
    And soon as I got to the point where I could no longer hide it, I had this problem of “too much inclusion”..Random people at work, both men and women, who had never had a conversation with me, now wanted to talk to me. Asking me my due date, asking me if I had morning sickness, asking me about my food crazing, my maternity leave plans etc. The lady at the Deli suddenly wanted to be my best friend coz she was pregnant too !
    All in all, it is definitely an interesting time in one’s life… AND you get a baby out of it !

  2. I am still wondering if I hate the others more than they hate me?
    Cause somehow everybody tends to get on my nerves these days. If they are too nice I hate it, if they don’t talk at all I hate it….

    So it usually ends up in a tie where we all ignore each other in the sad hope that they dont stress me out too much!

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