We all know that “Are you pregnant?” is one of the worst questions one can ever ask. At least, I sincerely hope we do. If not, let me explain. If you ask a woman if she is pregnant, chances are high that one or more of the following circumstances will obtain:
- She is not pregnant, but carries fat in her tummy.
- She has already had the baby.
- She is having difficulty conceiving.
- She is permanently infertile.
- Her husband is permanently infertile.
- She recently had a miscarriage.
- She recently had an abortion.
- She is pregnant, but wanted to wait before telling you.
- She is pregnant, but wanted to wait to tell you until the person standing next to her in the supermarket line was out of earshot.
- She was about to start trying to conceive another baby, having finally - as she thought - lost the baby weight from the previous baby.
- She had just decided to embrace her womanly curves and buy a trendy babydoll shirt.
- She has a large tumour in her abdomen.
- She is pregnant, but is having difficulty coming to terms with the pregnancy/her new body shape/other life circumstances and does not wish to have attention drawn to the fact.
Savvy? So to recap, never ever ever ask if a woman is pregnant. Well, not never ever ever; if you’re a radiologist about to zap her midsection with psi-gamma-epsilon waves, you can. Should, even. Or if you’re a doctor about to put her on a course of mutagenic dandruff cream. Or whatever. If not, don’t. If she wants you to know, she’ll tell you.
That much we all know. But what amuses me is the way a number of women phrase the issue: “Unless you see the baby crowning, don’t ask”. Catchy and succint, oui… but dangerous advice. Because it leaves the question open: what if you do see the baby crowning? Is it then socially permissible to step forward with a smile and a wink and say “I think someone’s in the family way!”? Surely the reaction of any labouring woman to such a remark would be justifiable homicide.
So what is the correct etiquette, then, when coming across a heavily-labouring woman? As avid a fan as I am of Miss Manners, I believe she was remiss in never addressing this issue. And the issue of complicated by the fact that women in labour tend to have very distinct, divergent and strongly-held views on the matter. Where one woman might like to have kindly, sonsy women tie knots in towels and rub her feet, another might prefer to be left strictly alone, and another might simply want to be whisked away to hospital post-haste. When a woman gave birth on the subway in England ignored by passersby, the world clucked and tutted; but if it were me in such an indelicate situation, that is precisely the sort of reaction I’d wish for. (It’s also a delightfully British anecdote, isn’t it? Stiff upper lip and all that. Maybe she was conscious of a silent, understated, forward-facing wave of English solidarity and rapport which carried her through the difficult moments? Possibly as the new citizen of a once-great Empire emerged the commuters quietly removed their hats as one, and acknowledged - here by a slight twitching of the moustache, there by a clearing of the throat - the Miracle of Life?)
So on this note, my question for you today is twofold:
1. If you saw a woman in heavy labour - say, in the canned goods aisle at a moderately empty supermarket - how would you react?
2. If you were that woman, how would you want others to react?
Bonus points if you have ever actually been in either situation. Extra bonus points if you remember Worf’s reaction to hearing Keiko was pregnant again, after having been forced to deliver her first child during an emergency on the Enterprise.
Kovac Says: