*Disclaimer: I AM NOT PREGNANT AGAIN! So don't ask.*
And now for numbers 10-12. If you missed the beginning of this series, click for 1-3, 4-6 and 7-9.
Just a reminder, I left these completely unedited from how I wrote them in my pregnancy-haze. If there are typos, well, blame it on the hormones. I do.
10. Not taking advantage of technology is blasphemy.
When my mom had all three of us kids, she never once had an ultrasound, so needless to say, she had no idea what any of us were (which, is why my name was Todd until I was born – thank God she didn’t decide to keep the name regardless of gender).
However, it’s commonplace now that because you have the technology, you have to use it. I said from the get-go that I didn’t want to know what the baby was, simply because I wanted to be surprised.
Well, I mean, after all, yes, knowing it’s a girl is great so you can get stuff personalized and you know how to decorate and what clothes to buy. But it also takes all the fun out of delivery.
Doctor: Look, a healthy baby girl.
Me: Yeah, yeah, tell me something I don’t know.
Doctor: There’s another one.
Doctor: There’s another one.
Me: WHAT????? Put it back, put it back.
(In all seriousness, we may not have proven what it is, but we have proven there’s only one – thank God.)
Alright, so we decide we don’t want to know. Well, I decide. The husband’s not happy with that decision, but the doctor won’t tell him because I don’t want to know. (Which is just as good because the husband can’t keep a secret worth a damn.) Apparently we are the only people in the world who have decided not to find out. Everyone I know asks me if I know what it is and I tell them no and I get looked at like I have three heads. Even in our childbirth class we are the only people who don’t know. (It’s almost like, “which one of these is not like the others, which one of these just doesn’t belong.”)
And being that the husband and I both work in technology, it seems ironic that we’re not using technology to its full advantage. But hey, I want to be surprised – why is that such a big deal? It’s not all it’s cracked up to be – Scott has a cousin who is pregnant too and she wants to know, and the baby has not cooperated for her, so she’s in the same boat we are, only begrudgingly. Besides, by the time you find out what it is, it’s not like you can change it – it just gives you more time to convince yourself it’s not the end of the world if it’s not what you wanted.
11. No one really knows what they are talking about
But, even if you don’t find the official gender, you can guess at it using the ever-reliable old wives’ tales…
What’s worse, is some of this stuff doesn’t even make sense. Do a Google… carry high, it’s a girl. No wait, this other site says if you carry high it’s a boy – which is it? Put your wedding ring on a string, if it goes side-to-side it’s a girl. No wait, that’s boy. Well, I guess that’s the way to make sure someone’s always right. (It’s also a way to confuse the hell out of a poor pregnant woman whose mind is already in a million places at once, and foggy to boot.)
Now, wait, let’s put this in perspective a little bit. I am five feet tall. That’s it, 60 inches. Or 152.4 centimeters if you prefer to go the metric route. So, on the first day of childbirth class, one of the most loud and irritating individuals on the planet goes, “It’s a girl, look how low she’s carrying.” Uh, excuse me? There’s really not a whole lot of room for this baby to grow being that I don’t have a huge torso. So what the hell is he talking about? (And actually, as time has progressed, I’ve noticed my belly moving more southward, so does that mean I was actually carrying high when loudmouth redneck made his proclamation? Or is it a boy, and he heard this jackass make this sweeping generalization so he moved just to prove him wrong?)
Then there was the woman who told me it was a girl because I was gaining weight all over. Really? That’s interesting because I’ve only gained 10 pounds thus far and it’s all out in front. (Which, if you read many old wives’ tales says boy.) But I was floored by the fact this woman just accused me of gaining a bunch of weight that I hadn’t gained. Well, gee, thanks. Next time remind me to tell you how big your ass is getting and we’ll see how much you like it.
I love how everyone’s an expert. Guess I’m just going to have to prove you all wrong and pee into a cup of Drain-O and see what color it turns.
What sucks the most is that when the baby comes, someone’s going to be right. And I’m going to get a lot of “I told you so” from certain people. (Note to self, start working on selective hearing now.)
12. This is the one time you can claim forgetfulness and not fear early-onset Alzheimer’s
One of my hallmarks around work is that I make clean deliveries, and I don’t screw things up. It’s very rare when I do. Unfortunately, since I got pregnant, that “very rare” has turned into “very often.” I’m forgetting due dates (except the one in April, that one comes up in conversation every day, usually to the effect of, “It’s not getting here fast enough!”), I keep forgetting various aspects of a project, whatever.
Even around the house, it’s getting crazy. Did I feed the dog today? Did I eat lunch? Did I water the plants? (I’m just kidding, I don’t have plants – can’t keep them alive. Maybe because I never water them. Hmm.)
But you know what, I can actually blame the hormones for this one – and get away with it. There’s something about being pregnant that really makes you absent-minded. I personally can’t stand it, but I’m sure some people are digging the fact that they can blame their ditziness on pregnancy instead of Mother Nature playing a cruel joke on them.
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