Bad Questions 1: "Are you pregnant?"
I’m not afraid of questions. I am terrified of the repercussions. We’re told growing up, “There’s no such thing as bad questions.” Anyone who has heard a heated argument about cultural and political issues knows that is false. There are not only bad questions, stupid questions, offensive questions, and even unaskable questions.
We’ve sat through a boring question in class, maybe from a student who missed the answer given seconds prior. We’ve been afraid to ask something, because we feel everyone else knows the answer. We’ve been offended by a question, even if only a gut reaction. We have even huhhh’d at an, “Has Anyone Really Been Far Even as Decided to Use Even Go Want to do Look More Like?”
I’ve been wanting to write about controversial questions since the start of this blog. I’ve written this before: Censoring questions risks distrust in our answers. Owner of the Comedy Cellar, Noam Dworman, frequently said on The Comedy Cellar Podcast, ‘We should encourage debate with Nazis.’ and ‘The ACLU once fought for Nazis to march in Skokie.’ And yet, he knows he can not host a Neo-Nazi at his club, even juxtaposed by scholars showing the absurdity of their beliefs. There’s too many repercussions from these questions we want to answer.
My first “bad question” is one we’ve all had. I had it twice this week. I did not ask.
Is it ever OK to ask a woman if she’s pregnant? Apparently, no.
This is what the internet says. And everyone knows the internet only holds truths. I could not find a single source that said otherwise, in the typical, “Let me give my opinion, then justify it later” approach.
A website I stumbled upon, Bounty.com, posited you can not ask this question because the woman should tell you she’s pregnant first. I had not known there was a universal cultural rule for dibs on pregnancy reveal. Apparently there is. The same article points out that bad assumptions might lead you to this question — weight gain, opting out of alcohol etc. We all know, “Did you gain weight?” is another bad question (one I may cover another day). This article even points out the dangers of stumbling upon a miscarriage, something we are culturally never supposed to speak about. Here I am, my ignorant white, cis-male self, thinking people should talk about miscarriage more, because it’s so common and underreported. Silly me! Let’s never discuss that normal event my mother faced twice, which your friends may painfully struggle to keep silent [/s].
Digging deeper down this rabbit hole — and by that I mean, more results on Google — brought up more of the same. “Never, EVER ask” and “you should never ask a woman when her baby is due unless you’re her (gynecologist) or you’re pretty sure you’re the baby in question’s father.” I read Medium pieces from angry mothers, appalled people would act like Larry David and dare ask them to not jostle their fetus by sprinting on a treadmill. I went through Quora to see a different opinion with upvotes, but could not. The only note I made was from Mary King’s Quora answer, that gave an alternative question, “Are you... wearing a new shirt?”
Finally, I did what everyone else does in 2023 to get a clear answer. I turned to Chat GPT. Alas, its algorithm, based on answers like those I had already read, spat back, “it is not appropriate to ask a woman if she is pregnant, even if you suspect or believe she may be. There are many reasons why a woman's body may appear to be pregnant, such as weight gain, bloating, or medical conditions, and it is not your place to inquire about her body or personal life without her permission.” It went on, with an idea I agree with, “It is important to respect her privacy and wait for her to disclose the information if and when she is ready.”
You have to understand, I come from a very neurotic mindset. Israelis are known for asking “bad questions,” to the point I’m unphased when a complete stranger at a bus stop asks me what I pay for rent, or another clueless taxi driver asks me questions in hopes of making a shidduch. We don’t believe in “bad questions” because questions are integral to learning. Our bad questions are quick answers. If “Are you pregnant?” is answered by “Yes.” or “No, I’m bloated from a congenital condition…” we learn. Fast.
Worse, I’ve never been granted the right to say, ‘My body is private. I don’t appreciate your question about it.’ I have a rare medical condition, KT Syndrome. Growing up, I became accustomed to healthcare trainees and professionals staring at my unclothed body, asking to prod my swollen limbs. On the streets, to this day, few thought, “Does he mind being asked about his limp?” before blurting out, “Hey, you! You walk funny!”
On a few occasions I was asked if I mind if four healthcare workers look at my body. I replied, “Go for it, Docs! Privacy is an illusion.” You might be thinking, “They asked for consent to see your condition. That’s wildly different to asking if you are pregnant.” Think deeper. The question “Are you pregnant?” is a consent question. It’s an awkward lead up to, “When is the baby due?,” “Boy or girl,” (roughly translated today as, “Tell me about its genitals.”) or a really bad question, “Can I feel?”
I wish I could agree with Chat GPT and poorly written articles emphasizing respect for medical privacy. I just don’t. I’m a believer in open dialogue. I want people to say their physical and psychological issues with pride. Sorry senpai, I do not agree with the internet on this one. Medical privacy is not about secrecy and shame. It’s about appropriate place and time. We should be curious about medical anomalies and, yes, pregnancy.
I have a right to ask you a bad question. You have a right to get upset over it. I am polite, so I would only ask this particular question based on multiple hints. A bloated stomach would not suffice. Others are not so polite. We can’t police how they talk. If you’re living a life where you never get offended, you’re living in an echo chamber or a vaccum. As Renda Writer repeated, “Your comfort zone will kill you.” People have both a right to curiosity and a right to offend you. Get used to it.
“Are you pregnant?” is a bad question. Not for the reasons I found. Because of what Mary King alluded to. Just ask a leading question instead. “Is that… a different shirt?” or “You’re glowing today! Did you change your lighting?” are effectively, “Are you pregnant?” with subtle acknowledgement, “Listen, I respect your bodily autonomy, so I feel weird asking this… but I’m curious, concerned and asking you anyways. Feel free to dance around the answer to signal that you do not want to discuss this, then we will move on, because I respect your privacy. Or just say, ‘yes,’ and I’ll respond, ‘Mazel tov!’”
