Expectant

She pointed diagonally across the parking lot, indicating the shortcut which departed from the tree-lined sidewalk and traversed the steaming black-top of the lot. “Walk that way to save yourself some steps.” It sounded to me like an order, not a recommendation. As I complied she looked at me seriously, “You should have a hat on.” I walked on in silence.

Pregnancy is an illuminating experience.

My expectant state seems to inspire goodwill and even happiness in many people on the city streets who look me in the eye, smile, and often even say hello as if I am more noteworthy than the other people walking past, someone to be acknowledged, perhaps even more than just a singular someone. Although sometimes I want to be as invisible as everyone else, I do not mind the smiles.

Others see me as infirm, someone whose mental capacity has dwindled in step with her belly’s expansion. I must be directed across parking lots, told what to wear, what to eat and when to rest. “You should not be carrying that bag.” “You should have stopped exercising months ago.” “It is too hot for you to be outside.” Even as a child, I never took kindly to outside direction. Now an adult, I positively bristle with anger when I receive unsolicited direction, not friendly advice, direction from people whose authority is suspect.

If what I saw at my own baby shower this weekend is any indication, having the baby won’t deliver me from being ordered about. My friend, Anna, hosting the shower has a three-month-old baby herself. My partner’s grandmother began issuing commands as soon as she and Anna were introduced.
“That baby is dressed too warmly.”
“You shouldn’t hold her so much.”
“You need to let her cry.”
“If she eats every 2 hours, then she isn’t getting enough food. You need to start her on solids.”
Shocked that anyone would suggest that Anna’s baby, who is as big as the average baby 2 months her senior and covered with rolls of fat, was ill-nourished, and fearing that Anna was about to cry as a result of the continuous attack on her parenting, I interrupted.
“Actually, Grandma, they say that you are supposed to stick to breastfeeding for the first 4-6 months. Even after that most of the nutrition for the first year is supposed to come from breastfeeding or formula with solid food being introduced gradually.”
Grandma snorts. She is the depository of the wisdom of the ages. “That’s just a fad. If you want to sleep through the night you need to give them cereal, but it sounds like you’re against giving cereal.”
“It’s not me. It’s the World Health Organization, the American Association of Pediatricians, the American Medical Association…”
“Those doctors don’t know what they’re talking about."
"Well... the research shows.."
"You read too much.”