The day I turned 29, the baby bump and I flew to France. Actually, I didn’t have much of a baby bump—I thought I could see one but that was probably my imagination. I was only seven or eight weeks pregnant. I actually had to Google how many weeks was a full-term pregnancy, that’s how little I knew about it. The answer? About 40. Forty weeks. And I was only 1/5 of the way.
I remember looking out the plane window, staring at the sunrise over Europe, and being scared of the long road ahead of us.
Forty weeks. That’s a long time.
Every morning, I had to remind myself I was pregnant. My “condition” was invisible to the world. I wasn’t “showing” like pregnant women like to say. I wasn’t even sick anymore—nausea had vanished mysteriously a few days after taking the pregnancy test as if it had only been there to inform me a mini-us was growing inside my belly. I was still more tired than usual but few people could notice. To the outside world, I was… just me. But when I looked at my reflection in the mirror, I thought I looked different. I certainly felt different. I was carrying a huge responsibility that weighed only a few grams.
Being pregnant comes with hearty congratulations and a phonebook-thick list of warnings, recommendations and advice.
I was still in the first trimester, and the risks of miscarriage were high. I tried to not worry about that too much because really, I had no control over it. I was keeping my fingers crossed but I had decided to travel to France anyway. I had to be by my mother’s side.
I like to be informed, so before going to France, I tried to learn as much as I could about pregnancy.
I bitterly regretted it.
I hadn’t had another appointment with the doctor (and no one from the clinic had called to say my panties had been found—thank God!), and I wasn’t feeling close to her anyway since I had only met her twice. So I did most of my research online.
I already knew that looking for medical information or advice online was not a good idea, especially if you were slightly hypochondriac. I mean, Google “headache remedies” and chances are it will link to “brain tumour”.
I should have known better than to Google “pregnancy”.
I found most websites were incredibly negative. Past the first sentence that invariably started with “congratulations!”, they listed a long list of potential problems and risks, current or to come.
As I soon discovered, in the name of the precautionary principle, everything came with a caveat. The most innocuous habits could suddenly be a problem. Taking hot a bath or a hot shower? Could be dangerous. Wearing nail polish? Could be toxic. Taking over-the-counter medicine? Better avoid it. Don’t eat fish, cheese, deli meat or anything raw; don’t drink caffeine or tap water (!), stay away from microwaves, pesticides, or pets; don’t dye your hair; don’t get stressed or tired; eat a lot but don’t gain too much weight; don’t sleep on your back; don’t travel in the first or last semester; don’t do this, don’t do that…
The list of “things to avoid when pregnant” seemed endless, and the French hedonist in me rebelled. I have a life. I had a life. And nine months is a long time to abstain from pretty much everything “just in case”, especially considering that some of the so-called recommendations seemed to be coming from tin foil hat-wearing folks.
Call me selfish, I don’t care. I love when women on forums get on their high horse and blame other “irresponsible women” for the choice they make. “It’s your BABY! It’s ONLY nine months in your LIFE!”
Well, if you can be a perfect pregnant woman, good for you. I can’t and I won’t. I will do my best and live with it.
Being mindful of the bean-shaped baby and generally aware of my “condition” was common sense. But at the same time, I didn’t want to become paranoid. Being pregnant is not a disease. I trusted my body to do its best. And I wasn’t going to be sheltered for nine months in the name of the precautionary principle.
I also found Internet advice about pregnancy incredibly negative. Some websites made it sound like a slow road to hell paved with bloating, constipation, nausea, stretch marks, sleepless nights and general degradation of your body and mind. Gee, thanks. Can we focus on the positive side for a second?
So that was my mindset on my way to France. I was confused and scared but I couldn’t afford to be. I had to be strong… somehow.
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I wasn’t aware of most of those risks/warnings when pregnant & had three healthy babies. Enjoy these last few weeks of your pregnancy. The next learning curve will soon begin!
My mother told me the same, so I’m trying not to worry too much.
I decided to stay away from doctors as I was having my first child after 35! I knew they’d scare me with all the possible complications and what not. My first appointment was at seven months as my midwife required me to see a doctor first before the home birth. And you’re absolutely right, pregnancy isn’t a disease. Not long now for you.
That was probably a wise decision. I see some of my friends going through hell with doctors because they are having children later… and by later, I mean at the “ripe old age” of 35. This is ridiculous!
The internet is rife with paranoids, it’s absolutely true. (There is a similar high ratio of negative people commenting on news articles, too. I always tell myself not to read those, but sometimes I get drawn in and angry and want to reply… what a time sink!)
Facebook is especially rampant with people sharing dubious medical advice. I’ve had to shut down my own family on a number of occasions for spreading urban myths. (Does no one think critically anymore??)
It can be rather depressing. Best to step away from the internet when it comes to other peoples’ opinions, ESPECIALLY when most people do not have the guts to put their names behind their words. I enjoy self-publishing, but I will be the first to admit that publishing on the internet does not qualify a person for anything.
I told my cousin that there are two things about which everyone will give their unsolicited opinion: marriage/weddings and children. It’s amazing how many complete strangers want to give their two cents about those topics.
In such personal matters, the person who knows best about your situation is you and the people whose opinion you regard to be worthy of a listen.
Amazing, isn’t it? And I’m bracing myself, this is only the beginning after all, parenting in general is one heated topic and I’ve heard strangers loved to chime in as well.
French culture isn’t that big on marriage/weddings so few advice on that topic, but I believe pregnant women have to deal with unwanted attention over there too. And of course, like you said, people say things online they wouldn’t say in real life!
It’s like this huge myth of raw milk (and cheese) being bad for the baby. Come on! How could good bacterias such as the one you can find in there can be good? I don’t believe a word of it. And the CNRS proved many times it wasn’t true and that indeed raw milk was good for the baby’s and mom’s immune system. But nobody cares about it, even if it’s proved. Because they do want to sell their crappy cheddar, babybel and vache qui rit. Keep going! You don’t need no vitamins, you just need to enjoy!
That’s all I’m having these days, Vache Qui Rit 🙁 Mind you, it’s better than nothing, we don’t get a lot of good cheese here and I will have my Laughing Cow over yellowish processed cheese. Lesser of two evils…!
The dietary restrictions are nuts actually. Didn’t are much about these.
*can not be good
It’s actually “funny” to see all these advices about what you should eat when you’re pregnant nowadays, considering babies are less and less healthy : more children then ever have food allergies: gluten, lactose, arachids…
Oh so true!