5 Things People Must Say to Extremely Pregnant Women

1). My guess is she’ll weigh…

This is a carnival game that I definitely don’t remember signing up for. It should be a general rule that all things related to weight and women should be off the limits, but since there are no boundaries when it comes to pregnancy, by all means estimate away and I’ll remember to high five you after she’s born if you’re correct.  

2). When is she coming?

If I knew that I wouldn’t be wasting my time talking to you, and I’d stop going on hotels.com looking for cheap rooms across the street from the hospital. Even when you go to your doctors appointments towards the end, they have no idea and give annoyingly vague answers like, “it could be today or two weeks from now.” I’m pretty sure that they are just making up words like "dilated" and "effaced" because it sounds helpful and they are just tired of answering the same questions.

3). When’s your due date again?

I’d like to have a shirt made (and by shirt I mean wearable tent): It’s a girl, no I won’t tell you her name because you’ll find a way to ruin it for me, her due date is September 25th. Have a nice day.

 4). How are you feeling?

We all know how I feel about this questions: but I will reiterate for emphasis. This doesn’t feel great people. I have a bowling ball dangerously close to my bladder and even though I’ve tried to avoid the waddle, sometimes it’s the only way that walking feels comfortable.  

5). I’m just so uncomfortable for you…

This is an odd form of sympathy, sort of like I feel your pain. Except that you don’t and unless you can magically birth this baby for me, your words are not helping and now I have to pee… again.

Parents are the Worst

7 reasons why I’m sorry, that we're not sorry.

1). From the moment they are born, our first topic of conversation at every gathering will be "our children". Even at dinner parties, for which we sacrificed our sanity and routine to attend, "pooping in the potty" stories are never off limits, even if the host is serving stew.

2). Parents are the worst kind of consumers and the most vocal. Nothing is safe enough, recall proof, or could ever have enough bells and whistles for our precious angels. A swing can no longer simply move back and forth, it needs to have a remote control which we can monitor from our smart phones, and look like it came from outer space. Our baby registries are ten times more extravagant than our wedding registries. Warning: we have access to message boards and we're not afraid to use them.

3). We can only use the words months or weeks to describe our children’s biological or gestational age (a phrase all of the non-parents are quickly checking out on Wikipedia). Rather than saying my kids will be a year and a half apart in age I tell people 19 months. To me, it sounds slightly less terrifying. To you, you’ll wish you paid better attention in junior high math.

4). We will absolutely try and recruit you. Parenthood is a cult and you should most definitely drink the Kool Aide.

5). We believe that everything about our children is fascinating and must therefore interest you as well. I will tell you every animal sound my daughter can say and the ones she struggles with, because you made the mistake of asking me how my day was going.

6). Did you want to see a picture of my child eating ice cream, at the beach, or petting our dog? Great, check it out my Instagram or Facebook page. It is has become a shrine to my family.      

7). You are no longer allowed to use phrases like I’m exhausted or I got NO sleep last night. We now own the rights to suffering and any non-parents using these expressions will be shot on site with our dagger eyes which are also trademarked, so don’t even try. 

The Final Countdown

Are you so ready to have the baby?

People would ask me this all the time when I was pregnant with Charlotte and I’d get giddy and squealy and say, “Yes, so ready.” I wish I could go back in time and lovingly slap myself in the face. No, there is no way to be ready and there is no way to be prepared for having a baby. My life was suddenly filled with so much stuff, all centered around a little person weighing less than 8 pounds. Stuff comprising of tons of necessary and unnecessary baby gear, not to mention the emotional stuff like tears, frustration, joy and a ridiculous amount of love.

Fast forward to what feels like a mere week later and the third trimester of my second pregnancy. Now when people ask me, I tell them the ugly truth. No, I’m absolutely not ready because I know what’s coming. I am physically exhausted from wrangling a toddler while carrying a bowling ball around in my stomach, that kicks me with the force of a hundred gerbils in 100 degree heat. But this tired is a spa weekend in wine country compared to what's ahead.

Do I long to hold my baby girl in my arms? Absolutely, more than anything. But I’d love to venture back to the land of ignorance just for this final countdown. This pregnancy is completely different because my first little ball of joy doesn’t allow me any time to think. But suddenly my brain has flipped a switch and I can’t ignore what feels like a ticking time bomb just waiting to shower me with two times the STUFF, which coincidentally feels like two times more than I am equipped to handle.

What do you mean I will no longer be the center of the universe?

On the plus side my heart is about to double in size. The one thing I consistently hear about having two under two is that nothing beats the feeling of watching your children fall in love with each other. So while I’m not ready for labor, sleep deprivation, or nursing, I can hardly wait for all the good stuff.