Begging the question

There are some questions a pregnant woman gets used to being asked repeatedly. Perhaps I speak in too declaratory a fashion, this being my first pregnancy, and having asked no other pregnant woman if she's experienced a similar phenomenon. Nonetheless, I have grown accustomed to being asked over and over the following (list not exhaustive!):

• "Do you know if it's a boy or a girl?"

• "Have you picked out names yet?"

• "When is your due date?" (I am particularly fond of being asked this question, because I can then smile sweetly and say, "In the middle of my husband's finals." I love shock value.)

• "How are you FEELING?" Often accompanied by the word "sweetheart", "darling" or some other pet name, and frequently said with a vague wince on the face of the person doing the asking. That facial expression always makes me feel as though I am supposed to say "terrible, exhausted, overwhelmed, petrified, constipated" or something, when in reality, the answer is "great".

For all of these questions, I have an established answer or two on stock, which I occasionally rotate depending on my mood.

I do find myself getting tripped up by one question, however, despite the fact that it is among my top five most asked:

"What do you plan to do after the baby's born?"

"Do?" I puzzle over this in my mind, while running through a reel of potential answers, all lucrative, all impressive-sounding, and all... lies.

"Well after completing my Masters' in Neuroscience, Russian literature and advanced studies at culinary school simultaneously, I might just take that job at the UN that they have been hounding me for. I've entertained the thought of law school, too, but I think I would rather divide up the money it would cost and put it towards our time-share in Mexico. Can't quit the jet-set life just because I have a baby, now can I?!"

In reality, the answer is, "stay at home and raise my baby, and any subsequent children that, God willing, come along."

Why do I feel ashamed to say this, especially since this is precisely what I want to do? Do people earnestly like hearing a woman who is seven months pregnant recite a litany of alternatives to one-on-one-time with her child who isn't even born yet?

Perhaps I'm old-fashioned. Okay, I'm definitely old-fashioned. But I find it a little spooky when the mother-to-be has so many far-reaching ambitions besides her own maternal calling as to essentially imply that she can't waaaait to get back to work. Especially if she hasn't even left her current employment or had said baby yet!
This whole business smacks of an attitude in the world that I find irritating at best, but downright insulting when my sense of righteous indignation is turned up a quarter-notch: Having children is a mere "phase" in life, and a tiring, inconvenient one at that.
Such an attitude lends itself to a definite "grass is greener" perspective to even the mother herself, who doesn't get a lot of societal support (let alone accolades) for committing herself full-time to the daunting, beautiful, holy task of raising her children. In doing so, the children themselves are viewed as an an awkward by-product of the decision to become a parent (as though parenting was an esoteric philosophical choice, as opposed to a real, challenging daily task). I like how one Catholic mother of 4 (one of whom is still in utero) addresses this subject on her enviably well-written blog, Conversion Diary.

"Back when I saw pregnancy and birth and babies and diapers and the terrible two's as just a brief phase of life, my mentality was to simply grit my teeth and get through it. I had the luxury of belaboring every inconvenience because I knew in the back of my mind that it would all soon pass. But once I changed my view to see new life as an inherent part of marriage and made no more long-term plans about exactly when we'd be done having kids, I was forced to confront the difficulties of the baby/toddler years in a new way. Now I was motivated to really get creative and brainstorm with my husband about how we could overcome some of the difficulties of these years and make things run more smoothly. And, due to some combination of natural psychological mechanisms and the grace of God, all those things about having little ones that had seemed like such a big deal just weren't that much of a big deal anymore once I saw it all as a lifestyle instead of a brief phase of life."

Now, reader, particularly you who have children already (who decidedly know better on this than me!), please forgive my naivete. I am sure, almost as much as you are, that there are days ahead of me where I will want nothing but to escape the pressures of the exacting work of motherhood (particularly in those first weeks postpartum; I hear they're hell). That doesn't mean I need to approach the beautiful miracle that's inside of me as a source of frustration, a quaint diversion before I move onto the "next big thing" before he or she is born. Maybe that means I want to remain naive. Or maybe, just maybe, I want to feel free to declare, "My life's sole ambition is to be a good mom, whatever it may take."

On an unrelated note, welcome to Lent!