It’s been 30 weeks since that little fish found its match, which means there are only 10 to go. I guess it’s time to start preparing. I feel like a baby-boom is happening as so many people I know are pregnant, and some that are several months behind me have already got absolutely everything ready. Had it not been for our trip to the US in November I’d probably not have anything at all yet. Not even a pair of baby shoes. Not that I know what they need shoes for until they can walk.
Starting with the baby room; we do have one. Well, it’s a room that’s now inhabited by shoes and a printer, but it’s a room. I’m in the process of starting to PLAN what it should look like, so I’m well behind fellow mothers-to-be. But, then I’m told babies usually sleep in their parents room for the first few months or even years. So, what’s the point with this room then? I know why. It is because it’s what good mothers do. They decorate a beautiful nursery that the baby won’t sleep in, buy toys the baby doesn’t need and clothes they won’t have time to wear. Because this way other mothers and women will accept you as the good mother you pretend to be. You can show off your baby stuff, yey!
Being pregnant is supposed to be this really beautiful time, a time of harmony and love. But, fact is, it isn’t that beautiful at all. It’s amazing, what the body can do and how nature works, but beautiful? For example, it’s not beautiful to sweat. Natural yes; beautiful not so much. I also don’t think that throwing up in your own mouth is a lovely thing to do, they call it reflux but really, we know otherwise. Walking around on feet that look like bread loafs is uncomfortable and not very feminine. And who thinks it’s sexy to walk like a penguin, or fun to have nails growing like never before only to chip as if they were made of paper. Then there’s the discharge that NOBODY wants to talk about… as one pregnant blogger put it; you worry you might be leaving “snail trails” behind.
Oh, and what’s with the hairy belly all of a sudden? I have an easy pregnancy so far, most of the scary bits above I only know about from intense Googling. But I admit I now have a big round fury belly.
Then there’s the husband, that beautiful man in your life who’s now so understanding and extra considerate. Um, what? There is nothing different about my husband, he understands me as “well” now as he did in the past. He still doesn’t get that, when I answer “no” to whether I’m upset, he needs to ask again. Sometimes I wish he’d feel sorry for me and understand why I’m annoyed, for no reason… But he doesn’t bloody get it!
He doesn’t notice the article on the screen when I pass him the laptop that, with large bold letters, reads “A mans role during pregnancy”. I have officially given up.
Superwomen! Why is it that women have this urge, or need, to pretend they’re superwomen? Why can’t they (we) admit that they’re in pain, tired, hate being pregnant and are just really slack about the whole “preparing for the baby’s arrival” bit? Sure many, or most, women are over the moon about being pregnant and have waited for this their entire life. But I’m sure I’m not the only one who never really longed for having babies and never, quite frankly, liked kids. I was once asked why I want kids if I don’t like them. Well, I’m sure I’ll love my own, but everyone else’s babies are generally just annoying. Ok, it’s not that bad. But, I just don’t have a connection with random babies. It takes time to build a relationship!
The worse thing is when people force babies on you. It happens that I’m at someones house and a baby is there, and the baby looks at me and maybe even shows some interest in me (God knows why). I ignore it of course. But then it crawls closer and starts pulling my clothes. Shit!! I look down at it and give it a quick pet on the head. But at this point it’s too late. Someone has to start commenting on how mean I am, ignoring it like that. One friend even went as far as telling everyone we met that evening about how cruel (!) I had been earlier. Come on, I hadn’t done ANYTHING!!! I don’t see how that’s cruel. I did smile at it, at least twice.
Now that I’m pregnant I’m obviously expected to be crazy for children. I’m not. I don’t have many friends here with kids so it is generally ok, and the one I see the most is a baby boy who I’ve now met enough times to actually like. I even pick him up. I wouldn’t have done that a month ago.
Basically what I am trying to say is that you don’t have to be crazy for kids to want your own and you don’t have to pretend to live in a perfect world to show other mothers you are capable. Screw other mothers!! What’s important is you and your baby, not how other people see you. I have caught myself looking at Instagram pictures and Facebook comments feeling stressed and even a bit jealous about how far other mothers-to-be have come, how much time and money they have spent and how many pre-natal courses they have taken. But then I stop myself and try to remember that all that isn’t really important. I know that my husband and I will be the most important part in our baby’s life. And love is all we need, right?