The issue of the day was written by Erin Riley and it resonated with me.
I have been trying to articulate the frustration of gendered expectations in parenthood without touching on what happens before the child is even born.
Thankfully, Erin put together some thoughts that sum up my feelings on the matter:
I have been trying to articulate the frustration of gendered expectations in parenthood without touching on what happens before the child is even born.
Thankfully, Erin put together some thoughts that sum up my feelings on the matter:
In the world of debates about caring
responsibilities, division of labour and child care subsidies, one part of the
work of parenthood is routinely forgotten: pregnancy. While our economic
systems are slowly adjusting to the idea of dual-income households with young
children, the real challenges of pregnancy are wholeheartedly ignored.
Pregnancy can be a strangely fraught
experience. As Marielle Fish eloquently put it recently: "You're
never alone, you're annexed. Yet it's a singularly lonely experience. You carry
it alone. It's very strange."
You are sharing your body, but that
itself is a burden you cannot share with others. Unlike the task of child-rearing,
there is no part of pregnancy that you can outsource to a professional (with
the exception of commercial surrogacy, which I'll get to).
At its core, pregnancy is bloody hard
work. While there is obviously tremendous range in experiences, for many women
it is a physical and emotional test. Sleeping, eating, breathing, moving: these
most fundamental parts of life become different and often much more difficult
during pregnancy.
Add in the pressure of worrying that
you are doing the right thing by your child, the limited diet, the weeks on end
of nausea and vomiting many women experience and the countless medical
appointments, and pregnancy is a consuming time.
In an era of increasing
casualisation, this can also have major economic effects. Missed work means a
smaller pay check – or none at all – for many casual and contract employees.
Even those fortunate enough to have full time work rarely receive extra sick
leave or benefits until late in pregnancy.
In fact, taking extended unpaid leave
from traditional work in the months prior to giving birth can exclude pregnant
people from being eligible for the government's paid parental leave
scheme - unless the pregnancy is considered complicated.
If pregnancy precludes some women
from participating in the paid workforce, we need to consider the economic
effects of pregnancy, and consider that pregnancy itself constitutes work.
But our social model of understanding
pregnancy often ignores this. Pregnancy is often portrayed as passive:
something happening to a woman rather than something she is doing. Even more,
it's work that she is expected to do purely for the joy of producing a child.
We treat children as the payoff for the work of pregnancy, despite those children
being legally and genetically no less their father's than their mother's.
Children as a reward for
pregnancy are simultaneously infinitely worth the work for the majority of
parents emotionally, and economically inadequate for the labour of pregnancy.
Our economic system is dependent on a
constantly-renewing group of consumers that come with each new generation, yet
we expect those who produce the consumers to do it for no economic benefit, and
often for significant economic loss. Much like other forms of caring work, the
work of pregnancy is undervalued because the economic contribution is not
direct and immediate.
On the other hand, this existing
model of pregnancy as being intrinsically personally valuable is fundamentally
challenged by the rise of commercial surrogacy.
While commercial surrogacy is
certainly fraught and requires strong oversight, it provides a means by which
women may exchange the work of pregnancy for financial gain. It's no
wonder there is such a strong reaction against it: that concept is
revolutionary and its flow-on effects could be significant.
The reason women aren't fairly
compensated or recognised for the work of pregnancy, much like other caring
work, is there is an assumption we will do it for free. Women are
expected simply to absorb the vast majority of the physical and economic costs
of pregnancy.
Imagine for a moment a world in which
women went on a reproductive strike for a year, and refused to be pregnant. The
economic loss from that gap in the population would be enormous. Women control
the means of reproduction, yet it is a power we have not wielded collectively.
Thus, our labour isn't valued by an economy because it expects the work for
free, and convinces us this is a totally acceptable state of affairs.
Of course, the idea of a reproduction
strike is an impossible proposition, but perhaps it is an illustrative
one. Our society and our economy rely on women doing the work of pregnancy.
It's well past time we recognised that work, both socially and economically.
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