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Tuesday, November 27, 2012

Honey, I'm Pregnant

I've known for about 3 weeks, and although I was understandably eager to share this news with you (being the father and all) I was waiting for that perfect moment, you know, when you were flipping through the real estate classifieds, to share this with you.  I just knew the moment would come, when you'd say "How about this has three bedrooms, a view, an office...." and I could reply "And maybe a nursery?" with a sly grin.  And you'd be excited and smile back, and then we'd cuddle in the bed, dreaming about the baby to be...

Oh come ON.  Seriously?  (If you watch Fringe, you know I just lifted this scenario straight from the script...and I do apologize if you thought you were getting some juicy information about my own uterine status...)

What is with all the stupid writing when it comes to all things baby?  Now, I'll admit I've seen some pretty creative, real life, announcements about this particular life event, but the way the media spins it is downright stupid. 

You'd think with as much practice as I've had in particular area, I'd have shared this news in some cute, creative way at some point, but I live in Real World and it's never gone down like that.  No, it's been far more practical and boring than all that.

It starts out with me being kind of tired, kind of well, bitchy. If Jamie has to say the words "Man, what's your problem..." at any point during the day, we know the possibility is there. It becomes a little more obvious when someone hugs me and it hurts my chest so badly, I want to punch the person in the face.  Finally, when I turn green in the grocery store, Jamie demands I buy a test right then.  Romantic right?

 After the test is brought home, the husband will ask "Can you pee or do you need to drink?" Lovely.  And then he stands post right outside the door (because I won't let him in there with me) and immediately barges in when the test has been duly baptized.  So as soon as I know, he knows.  There is no surprise element happening and honestly he knows before I do.  I will argue that buying a test is a huge waste of money, that I am NOT pregnant and he simply states "Yeah I think you are....pee on the stick..."

I don't know one female who has waited more than 24 hours to share this informaiton with her beloved, not the mention the entire world, so this whole Hollywood idea of announcing a baby is simply not reality.

And then you have the....labor drama.  The mom-to-be standing in a crowded public area, exclaiming "Oh no, my water broke.  The baby will be here in five minutes.  Quick!!! Emergency!!! Hopsital NOW!!!" Really?  Has this ever happened, even once, in the entire history of humanity?  Have we not had enough babies born to shift the Hollywood perception of labor and delivery? Birth is quite dramatic on it's own without the time sensitive emergency nature of the scenarios being written and acted out.  You are not going to see a first time Mom, even with her water broken, having a baby within the time frame of an ENTIRE movie, let alone the 15 minutes usually alloted for this particular cinematic climax.  Let's get real.

In Real World, you have contractions for days and days and maybe, just maybe you might go to the hospital thinking it's the Real Thing, but more often than not, it's a false alarm.  You walk around cursing Mother Nature for still being pregnant and plead with God to let these contractions work their magic and get this child out of your personal space.  You become a wretched, wicked version of your previously sweet self, and swear you'll never, ever do this again.  You walk, and walk, and walk, fold baby clothes, get the house completely in order and wait.  One night, after you've given up ever having the baby...the ONE night you said "To hell with the house being clean, I'm over it..." you'll go into real labor and wish you had spent some of that cleaning time, resting, because the whole hospital experience is exhausting.  You aren't rushed in, breathing between intense contractions, having a baby in the first 15 minutes of your arrival.  You are being clothed in ugly hospital attire, having the same questions you've already answerd a million times asked again and having needles shoved into your skin in various places.  You're given a handy little heartbeat belt and strapped down to a zillion wires and wait.  And wait, and wait.  Then you push, and push and push...and when it's time to meet your baby, it will be an ugly, alien looking thing, all wrinkled and white, screaming it's bloody head off.  Contrary to popular media placement of the "newborn baby" you will not give birth to a clean, fluffy-headed three month old.  You will not exclaim "Oh she looks just like your mother.." you will think, to yourself "What the hell happened?  She doesn't look like ANYONE...Wait, is she ASIAN???  Did someone switch my baby..???" (even though the baby has never left the room...)

And after it's all said and done, you will not appear glowing, with perfect eye make-up and glistening pink lip gloss, hair totally in place and a brilliant smile plastered across your face.  You will be slumped against the bed, looking like you've been rode hard and put away wet, the worst possible version of your physical appearance, but the one thing you will have, that Hollywood DID get right...

The brilliant smile, while holding your ethnic baby (don't worry, she will eventually morph into some version of you and your's partners physical features) and thinking "Damn, glad that's over with..."

That my friends, is the truth about pregnancy, childbirth and how stupid Hollywood is. 

And no, I'm not pregnant.  But I did get you to click open my blog huh?? Ha!!!