My Initial Concerns with Growing a Human

Do you remember when I made that joke a few months back—maybe seven or eight months back now—about switching over to natural birth control methods and not being an expert with numbers or tracking my cycle and potentially becoming pregnant in the near future?

Well, it happened—I’m going to be a little feminist mama in just six short months—but not because of my horrid math skills or inability to track my cycle. I wholeheartedly believe in the effectiveness of natural birth control methods and fertility awareness. No, no, my partner and I decided a couple months ago that it was the right time for us to start trying to grow our own little human.

To be quite honest, though—because of all the literature I’ve read recently upon the detrimental impacts of hormonal birth control pills on the body, the side effects I’ve experienced myself,  and the life-altering implications I’ve seen hormonal birth control pills have on a member of my own family—I was concerned that I was not going to be able to have children after taking hormonal birth control pills for such an extended period of time, or I at least thought there would be additional challenges that came along with trying to conceive because my hormones were out of whack for close to ten years.

This being said, I’m super grateful that my partner and I were still able to conceive. I realize that I’m now speaking from a position of privilege, however, and that many individuals are challenged on a daily basis with fertility issues. My heart goes out to those individuals, and I find myself thinking about them more and more with each passing day. 

After my fertility doubts were put at ease, the next thing I found myself worrying about almost immediately upon finding out I was pregnant was the potential for miscarriage. Between 10-20% of pregnancies end in miscarriage and these numbers are thought to be even higher when taking into consideration miscarriages that occur before an individual even knows they are pregnant. So, it’s not like miscarriage is an irrational fear: it’s something that happens quite frequently in pregnancy.

In fact, I personally know multiple people who had miscarriages and shared their experiences with me. The scary thing is that there’s not really a whole lot you can do to prevent a miscarriage. They just happen, and the reason is left a mystery. Perhaps that’s the most difficult part of it all.

I find it strange and a bit disheartening that—when trying to conceive and after actually conceiving—the most prominent emotion that I felt throughout the journey was not joy or happiness, but fear: fear of not being able to conceive and fear of losing a baby after conception. I’m still scared, but I’ve realized that I can’t go through my whole pregnancy being scared. It’s not healthy for me, and it’s not healthy for the tiny human now getting comfortable in my womb. 

It’s time to move forward, and writing this blog post is the first step for me. 

Finding Joy in Telling the Family

Although my initial emotions regarding conceiving and miscarriage were ones based in fear, I did manage to find some joy at the beginning of my pregnancy journey when revealing to my partner and family that I was, in fact, pregnant.

Of course, I could only keep the secret from my partner for maybe two or three hours after I took a pregnancy test. You see, what happened was, on the morning that I took a pregnancy test, I ended up taking it at around four o’clock in the morning because I couldn’t sleep. I had an inkling I was pregnant and was excited. So, I sat on the toilet at four o’clock in the morning, peed on the weird little stick, waited two or three minutes, then looked at the test: a plus sign. I then immediately started to cry while still sitting on the toilet. Also while sitting on the toilet, I took a photo of the positive pregnancy test because it was digital and needed proof (and how long do those things really last?).

The only reason I managed to keep the secret from my partner for a few hours was because he was still sleeping when I took the test. I tried to keep it to myself when he woke up—my plan was to go out and buy a cute little pair of shoes or a mug or something to do a pregnancy reveal later that day—but I broke and just showed him the photo of the test. His initial response when I showed it to him was “that’s not your hand in that picture” and I said “yes it is, and that’s our bath mat.” And then I cried and he told me he loved me. 

This sounds awfully cheesy as I’m writing it, but it’s exactly what happened.

Soon after that, we called my partner’s family and then my family to share the news.

My mom has one of those neat little picture frames that anyone can send pictures to, so while talking on the phone to her I sent the photo of the pregnancy test and she shouted “YOU’RE PREGNANT?” And then my dad immediately walked in—are your parents really your parents if they don’t have you on speaker phone all the time?—and said “I could hear that all the way in the other room.” They’re stoked, to say the least.

My brothers’ responses were a bit more colourful. I believe my oldest brother said something along the lines of “you’re going to turn into a whale,” and my other older brother—but still younger than my oldest brother—said something like “get ready to put your body through hell.” Lovely, aren’t they? It’s about what I expected. At least they made me laugh instead of cry, though. I’d had enough crying by that point in the day. 

My older brother—not the oldest—also asked me what I was hoping for: a boy or a girl. I told him I was hoping for a girl, and his response was somewhat off-putting. He responded with “if you have a girl, she’s automatically going to have more challenges” and then proceeded to mention rape and assault and a few other traumas that women often suffer through during their lifetimes. That saddened me, but he’s not wrong, either. 

However, I’m still hoping for a girl. 

Let me tell you why. 

Raising a Little Girl in Contemporary Times

I should start out by saying that I’m obviously going to love my child regardless of their sex and gender, as any parent should. All I’m actually hoping for is a safe pregnancy and birth. If I could pick between raising a boy or a girl first, though—we’re planning on having at least one more child afterward—I would choose a girl, and there are a couple reasons why.

First and foremost, I know more about little girls based solely on the fact that I was one at one point in my life. Due to this fact, I think I have a better grasp on what they need, what they want, how they change as they grow older, the challenges that come along with being a young woman. I’ve been through it all already and—honestly—I think raising a little girl would be a bit easier for me to do at this point in my life than raising a little boy. Since this is my first child, I really need that confidence booster since I’ve never seen myself as a mother or felt that I have maternal instincts. This doesn’t mean that, if I do have a little girl, she will be exactly as I was when I was a child. Every single child is different and grows on their own terms. 

I just feel that I would have a more solid foundation to work with if I were to have a little girl.

Second, I want the opportunity to raise a little girl using some of the tools and knowledge that I lacked as a little girl and young woman. A few examples include how to give or deny consent, menstruation as a source of power rather than shame, compassion for the self and others, healthy body image, and how to utilize your unique voice. Don’t get me wrong, I grew up in a household where sex and gender norms were constantly being challenged—my mom was always the stable source of income while my dad stayed at home with my brothers and I for a large part of our childhoods—but I want to be able to provide other resources and tools of self-empowerment to my child, as well. 

This is also just as important when raising a little boy but, as my brother noted, a little girl would automatically have more challenges in life purely because of her sex. This is unfortunate and I want to be able to teach my child that those challenges can be overcome and that equal opportunity, respect, freedom, and choice are worth fighting for, particularly if I have a little girl.

I may be new to this role, but I think that the opportunity to teach and empower is a huge part of being a little feminist mama. It’s at least a good place to start.