I like seasonal beverages, pull-on boots with fuzzy lining, and messy buns. There is no shame in being basic, I think. I am into the things I’m into, and if people want to put a label on it, that only outs their shallowness, not mine. And when I was pregnant, I hit every item on the "signs you're a basic pregnant woman" checklist and, well, I leaned into it. I wanted to be clearly identified as a pregnant person (so I could maybe score a seat on the subway more easily), and in order for that to happen, I went back to basics without hesitating.
I did what you’d expect a pregnant woman to do, based on how we’ve been depicted in the media since I Love Lucy worked Lucille Ball’s pregnancy into the show’s storyline. After I successfully entered the second trimester, I drew attention to my expanding belly. I was vocal about turning down alcohol and my husband and I took a childbirth class. We registered for basic baby gear, and made baby name lists. The only basic item on the pregnancy checklist that we ignored was the amped-up gender reveal. My partner and I didn't know the sex of our children until they were born.
So if you’re not sure where you stand on the “what kind of pregnant woman am I” list, and you like labels, here are some signs you’re a “basic” pregnant woman. Hey, you’ll get no judgment from me.
In the early '90s, oversized shirts and leggings were my go-to loungewear. I could have pulled off a full-term teen pregnancy with my wardrobe choices, and without anyone realizing it.
I never felt confident to wear form-fitting clothing pre-baby, and that carried over to my pregnancy. So while the oversized button-down look of pregnancy from a previous generation had been replaced by “baby on board” crop tops and low-slung maternity jeans, I kept it basic and honored the vintage look with a rotation of huge oxford shirts and an oblivious attitude towards style.
This is the grossest food combination known to man. I never believed for a second that anyone would eat this when I would see this trope played out on some TV show as a kid. Then I got pregnant and felt that a sweet creamy food would pair with a crunchy savory item and, well, I was not wrong. Pickles and ice cream? That's the good stuff, my friend.
Basic pregnant women do their homework. I read all the books and trolled all the parenting boards. Of course, this was way too much information and I was soon overloaded. Luckily, I learned to stop “studying” to be mom, and just get the basics down: keep the kid alive with food, love, and sleep; keep it relatively clean; don’t let it grow up to be a jerk.
I wouldn’t say I had a totally black heart, but I had a prolonged goth stage and was never moved much by baby stuff. Then I started growing a baby, and I couldn’t stop cooing at infant animals or other people’s human babies. Depictions of fluffy chicks had a narcotic effect on me. It was all just so cute.
Having Siri recite potential baby names is a good way to figure out if the names my husband and I like sound OK in someone else’s voice. This feels like a very logical approach to determining how the robots will address your child in our inevitable dystopian future.
Nope. You, and you alone, are pregnant. Your spouse is not pregnant (unless she physically is, of course). It bothers me to hear hetero couples refer to the woman’s pregnancy in the first person plural. She’s doing all the work, people! The dude's job took a minute and now he gets to witness the amazing feat that is gestating a human.
The word “trend” is not applicable to your baby gear shopping adventures. You want solid, sturdy, reliable products. You will not shell out extra for the stroller’s denim fabric.
I was not "too cool" to show off my belly, especially once it was protruding enough to qualify me as undeniably pregnant. The patting of the stomach is the universal sign for “maternal instincts at work here” and even if I didn’t really feel maternal at that point, I thought it was just the right thing to do.
Not one to fret about footwear, you take the opportunity of your pregnancy to relish in comfort. Now is the time to shelve the painful heels and narrow boots. I love shoes — like, a lot — but I was done trying to pull off any modern looks while pregnant. I stuck to flip-flops, slip-on sneakers, and, dare I say, Teva water sandals.
“Care to volunteer on School Picture Day?”
“Consolidate your credit card debt?”
No matter what anybody’s selling, the answer is a demure, “No thank you,” because pregnancy is nature’s best excuse to get out of everything.
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