The ways of right-living people glow with light;
the longer they live, the brighter they shine.
OK, now back to our regularly-scheduled blog post about pregnancy. (By the way, so far it seems the email unsubscribe has worked — no more sexy women contacting me for hookups, thank goodness.)
Earlier this week, a guy friend commented, “I wonder what it’d be like to be pregnant. Like having a water balloon inside.” My response: “It’s weird.” That’s when I realized that I regularly think to myself “how weird” when dealing with a variety of pregnancy-related symptoms.
I know some women love being pregnant. When they find out I’m pregnant, they gush about the wonderfulness of feeling the baby moving around or what-have-you. They even say that they’d like to be pregnant again, even though they don’t want any more kids. They get all glowy and softly reminiscent about the joys of pregnancy.
Frankly, I can’t even list what they find so great about being pregnant, because the best thing I can say about it is it’s educational. Oh, I’m learning all sorts of things: That I actually have minimal control over my body, when it chooses to do a thing; how to moderate my exercise and be satisfied with what I can do; how to accept my changing physical appearance; how to focus on healthiness rather than weight; how to tolerate conversations about being pregnant, the frequency of which will increase along with my waist size.
To me, pregnancy is a necessary evil to be endured so we can meet our future child. I’m just holding out for mid-August, after which I’ll be able to share some of the baby-care burden with Ian. I’d be happier if people laid eggs. Then Ian could incubate our egg while working on his computer, and I could go out for my bike rides and do all the active things that pregnancy is slowly stripping away. I would bring him food occasionally, of course, but I’d be able to keep my same fit, slender, strong, active body that I’m losing (and that will, I know, be really painful to regain). So the egg-laying is a plan with no drawbacks, really.
I don’t want to give the impression that we don’t want to this pregnancy — I’m really looking forward to becoming a parent. I’m eager to start reading all those wonderful kids’ books aloud. I anticipate with excitement getting to know this new person and help him or her grow in to adulthood. I’m looking forward to bike rides, craft projects including glitter everywhere, hiking, games of imagination, backpacking, camping; to seeing the world through fresh eyes, when everything is interesting (and please, please, no eating slugs or snails!). I’m ready to be a parent. It’s going to be long, hard, tiring, and absolutely worth it. Which is what I keep telling myself about pregnancy, too.
Meanwhile, I’m going to keep noticing how weird — not glittery, wonderful, golden, sweet, delightful, etc. — it is to feel that little person moving around in there. And holding out until August.