THERE once was a time when the pregnant woman shielded her distended belly from the eyes of the world. She wore loose smocks. Out of modesty and a sense of protectiveness for the unborn, she did not wear tight-fitting clothes. 

Today, this is not the case. Women wear T-shirts and bare midriffs. Most shocking of all, expectant mothers now have their portraits taken by professional photographers in the latter stages of pregnancy. The convention in these portraits is to display the swollen belly naked, perhaps stroked by the father or a sibling.

No one wants to see his mother half-naked and pregnant in a framed photograph on a shelf. No one. These portraits will be disturbing revelations. Children will be forced to view themselves as naked bulges, non-persons. But the expectant mother is not thinking about her child and the awesome responsibility ahead when she poses in this way. She is in love with her primitive fertility. Let the record include her moments as maternal goddess.

The modern woman doesn’t have much left of her femininity, so she glories in what she does have: her body. The more spiritually empty she is, the more triumphantly carnal she becomes.

                                                          — Comments —

Mrs. P. writes:

“THERE once was a time when the pregnant woman shielded her distended belly from the eyes of the world. She wore loose smocks. Out of modesty and a sense of protectiveness for the unborn, she did not wear tight-fitting clothes.” 

There once was a time when women not only tried to hide their distended belly from the eyes of the world, they tried to hide themselves as well. There was a time when being pregnant was an embarrassment. The protruding belly of the pregnant woman was a stark reminder to all of what a man and woman do together that makes a baby and that must have been something to be embarrassed about years ago. 

During the Victorian Era, the words pregnant and expecting were not used especially in mixed company. (As late as the 1950’s the word pregnant was rarely used. PG was the code term of choice as I recall.) Once Victorian women reached their third trimester of pregnancy and it was obvious to all that they were pregnant, many women went into hiding. They stopped attending social functions and public gatherings. Not only did they stay home, they stayed in the house. If they did get out for a walk about the yard for some needed exercise, it was usually at night after dark. 

People were so extreme during Victorian times that if a pregnant woman was sitting in the parlor sewing baby clothes and a man happened to walk in the woman would quickly hide her sewing from sight. 

As the time drew near for a Victorian woman to give birth and sometimes even sooner than that, young children in the household often were sent to be with other relatives until well after the baby was born. This was done for two reasons. First, there was a strong desire to keep carnal knowledge from children as long as possible and children, being the inquisitive creatures they are, would ask too many questions. Second, it was important to the health of newborns to keep them isolated for a period of time. This is a good practice even today. Some practices always make sense. 

If a doctor was the one to deliver the baby, he maintained eye contact with the Victorian woman in labor in order to avoid looking at her genitals. He relied on touch in delivering the baby. 

I recall vividly how my grandmother, who had been born in 1898, objected to pregnant women attending church or being seen in public during their final months of pregnancy. In her opinion, they should stay home and stay out of sight of the public. 

When I was pregnant with each of our three children, we took no photos of my belly. I wore the typical tent type maternity clothes popular back in the 1960’s. But I was not trying to hide my pregnancies under these tents. In fact the maternity clothes drew attention to my pregnancies. I was glad to be pregnant. The miracle of life growing inside of my belly was a wonderful experience for me…and for my husband.

Laura writes:

Many more pregnancies ended tragically in Victorian times. It wasn’t just shame but the awareness of mortality, both the child’s and the mother’s, that created discretion. It was natural to curb enthusiasm because it was more serious if something went wrong.

John McNeill writes:

To be honest, I don’t see the wisdom of the Victorian method of handling pregnancy. Pregnancy is the mortar of the foundations for civilization; it should be nothing to be ashamed of. Pregnant women (preferably married of course) should be treated with honor, not vermin to be driven away. I know that’s not the jist of what you’re saying, but still, I feel society has too much of a negative attitude towards pregnancy as something undesirable or oppressive. While I admit that I do not wish to see a picture of my mother being pregnant with me, I can’t help but welcome this movement towards treating pregnancy as a good thing. It might even help that sub-replacement white fertility rate we were discussing earlier. A necessary pendulum swing, if you will. Then perhaps when we’ve restored pregnancy and fertility as positive things in society, we can then turn to some moderation and put some clothes on those pregnant ladies.

Laura writes:

I didn’t advocate Victorian shame. Mrs. P. brought it up by way of contrast. I don’t wish to see pregnant women hidden away, for heaven’s sake. Perhaps more modest clothing would be in order – not because pregnancy is shameful but because it is sacred.

Pregnancy is beautiful and doesn’t need the egotistic treatment as seen in these portraits. You say, “I feel society has too much of a negative attitude toward pregnancy.” I’m not sure what you mean. I have never encountered a generally negative attitude toward it, except perhaps that it is seen as more burdensome than it is. If you look at celebrity gossip, it is full of accounts of pregnant stars. It is fashionable to be pregnant, more so than being married. It should be fashionable.

Ideally, pregnancy is a period of happiness and anticipation. One doesn’t need to pose in the nude to make it a thrill.

Laura adds:

John is right that it is shameful for very young women, especially white, college-educated women, to be pregnant. That’s why we see so much abortion.

Mr. McNeill responds:

My apologies for implying that you hold Victorian attitudes. That didn’t come out right. My first part of my comment was expressing my own emotional and intellectual opposition to certain Victorian senses of  morality. I bridged my strong opposition to Victorianism with my mild disagreement with you too much. Again, I apologize.

As for our perceptions of society’s attitude towards pregnancy, I suppose my generation shapes my perception. In my social world, pregnancy is something that’s feared, with birth control being the super hero that protects us from that fate. I’ve met people in my age group who equate it with STDs. Yes, it’s true that celebrities are often touted in magazines when they are pregnant, but my generation largely ignores magazines like People. I don’t sense any real joy about pregnancy from people I know. Not real data, I know, just casual observations from a member of an age group that’s up at bat for shaping the future of our civilization. I welcome any counter-observations.

No argument from me that clothes would be ideal. I guess I’m just willing to accept help in the fight against the pro-childless attitude amongst my generation, even if it’s not my normal cup of tea.

Laura writes:

I think you’re making an important point, a point that I should have made in the initial entry. This egotistic celebration of pregnancy occurs within a culture that ironically does not celebrate fertility. Motherhood is embraced only when it is convenient.

Perhaps you are in your twenties or early thirties. You will probably find that after having avoided pregnancy like the plague for years, your friends will become fanatically focused on it at some point in the near future.

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