Pregnant In Heels

There’s this new “reality” show on television right now, and even before I saw a clip of said show, I made a promise to myself that I would.not.watch it. Not because I thumb my nose at scriptless yet still crafted shows about pseudo-celebs, Drag Queens, Top Chefs or even 20-something strangers picked together to live in a house and have their lives taped. No, in fact, I eagerly DVR many of them for later consumption, much to my husband’s dismay.

However, without even having watched a second of this new reality show, I knew that if I even devoted an ounce of my time to it, I would be become incurably frustrated and perhaps even throw a shoe or two at my TV (hence preventing me from watching any other horribly delicious reality television).

The show in question is Bravo’s latest… Pregnant In Heels. The name itself told me more than I needed to know. The best I got during my 9 months of pregnancy was “Pregnant in Flip Flops” (okay, there were probably forays into “Pregnant in Boots” and “Pregnant in Slippers.” This was in my pre-Ugg days, after all).

However…if there was ever a show called “Pregnant & Hooping,” I’d be the 1st one to sign up

I knew from the title alone that I would find contention with this show, and not the good kind where you’re shouting at the screen because your favorite contest on Project Runway has just been Auf’d. No…I knew that there were most likely philisophical differences between the moms-to-be on the show and myself…so great, in fact, that it would only serve to frustrate and annoy me.

Yet, somehow I failed. Perhaps it’s because I let myself linger a little bit too long after the ending credits to the Real Housewives of Wherever, but there it was. Pregnant In Heels was staring me right in the face. Yes, I know I had a choice, and I exercised it. I changed the channel. But as I surfed the other ones, a nagging thought in the back of my mind kept pulling me back to Bravo.

What could it hurt? I wondered.

Oh, it hurt. It hurt a lot.

To be fair, I only ended up watching no more than ten minutes of the show, but those ten minutes made an indelible impression.

The clip I saw included a mother in her 3rd trimester who wasn’t enthused about losing a 2nd guest room for a nursery (which she feared would be “too babyish” for her taste), and a couple who utilized the help of a focus group before hosting a dinner party for the sole purpose of choosing their son-to-be’s name.

I couldn’t find the remote fast enough after that. I’m not sure what happened in the last fifteen minutes of the show, so I’m not sure what name was chosen (Asher, Bodhi & Tucker seemed to be the big contenders) or whether or not the other mother came to terms with giving up her extra guest room for her baby.

The rest of the night I kept thinking about what bothered me so much about this show, and I think what did it was the unrealistic bar it sets for pregnancy. There is already plenty of pressure for pregnant women and new moms, that there’s no need for more. While you can argue that Pregnant In Heels is more fantasy than reality, I can guarantee that there are women who walk away from an episode internalizing what they see.

I tried to decide who was at fault (because it’s always easiest to place blame somewhere). Is it these mothers who have these ridiculous demands, treating their children-to-be as possessions rather than actual people? Is it Bravo who continues to put out these types of shows while promoting these over the top notions? Or perhaps it’s the viewers who can’t stop watching, which…if that’s the case, then I certainly take on some of the blame.

While I can honestly say that I won’t be seeking out another episode of Pregnant In Heels on purpose, I also can’t promise to look away if I accidentally land on it again.

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