After writing my last post, it dawned on me that I threw a curve ball at you with that whole baby news hidden beneath the oooh’s and aaaah’s of our fabulous Asian vacation.
Then it dawned on me, maybe people want to hear my perspective on this preggo bit. Maybe they wonder how someone like me, someone who wrote several posts portraying conflicting views on the subject of having kids, is actually handling the fact that she’s preggo. Maybe others want to hear all about this new stage in my life and want to embark with me on this crazy adventure…. yeah… maybe people really, really care!!
Do you think I’m really that egocentric? Because I’m not.
In all seriousness, there are two reasons why I feel compelled to write about this baking bun in the oven: 1) I’d like to have a chronicle of this moment in time only because I’m interested in keeping a personal account of my history – it’s cool to look back on! 2) I think it’s only fair to put other sentiments out there, not just the typical “We’re-pregnant-and-we’re-overjoyed-with-our-soon-to-be-bundle-of-joy!” sentiments.
I found out I was preggo in September. Thinking about that now, it seems like forever ago. I mean, I found out before el dieciocho – think about it THAT way. Is it just me or wasn’t that like a million and a half hours ago? My “how-I-found-out” story is super typical – monthly visitor doesn’t arrive and you head over to the local pharmacy for one your average pee-on-a-stick tests.
Except in usual Chilean fashion, there was a 2-for-1 deal on pee sticks so in the end I bought 2 tests for the price of one. Yes, before you have to ask, I did use both – just in case! And may I just take this opportunity to state that these tests are NOT like you see on tv. That second line that’s supposed to appear in the event that your eggo is preggo actually makes its appearance ever so slowly. Also, it plays Jedi Mind tricks on you. Like those images where you have to “relax your eyes” in order to see the hidden 3D image. You think you’re seeing the other line appear but then you don’t And then you do, but wait, you don’t. Do you? I realized rather quickly that this 2-for-1 deal was actually a life saver. I could have sat for daaaaaaaaaaaays wondering about the validity of the appearing disappearing line…
So what happened once I knew for sheez?
Nothing major, sorry to break it to you. I didn’t squeal, jumping up and down for joy. I didn’t freak out wondering “Dear God WHY ME?” (contrary to what I may have led myself to believe a few years ago.) I wasn’t overwhelmingly happy and I wasn’t disastrously disappointed either. I was very matter-of-fact, as a matter of fact. I took the information, processed it and proceeded to calculate the necessary next steps in such an event. Kind of like a fire drill! One thing I didn’t feel was like it was MINE. I didn’t look at my stomach or touch it in awe. I was, in fact, rather removed. I cognitively got it but the emotion was very practical. Sorry to disappoint those who don’t get what I’m writing but my main goal in life has NEVER been to be a mom, neither back then nor now.
Anyway, where was I?
Right – the practical steps to follow upon finding out you’re preggo. Call husband or sig other!
G was at a local event center at some kind of stationery fair where his company had an exhibit. Our conversation started out just shooting the sh*t, hearing about his day, what he was doing, when he’d be home and oh by the way, are you busy? PS I’m preggo. No joke that’s kind of how it went. To this day G can’t believe that’s how I told him. I mean the guy knows me better than anyone else – what the hell did he expect? Fireworks?!! His reaction was more of what I’m sure you imagine and hope for in a father-to-be. It was cute; he was so excited. I was glad mainly because I felt guilty. I mean, the poor kid was on its mega journey of life and my reaction was as if a sales lady had told me she couldn’t find my bra size in the department store, but not to worry, she’d call another store to see if they had my size and if so, to hold it.
Pregnancy is like going through puberty all over again (and I imagine menopause must be similar.) Strange things are afoot with one’s body and to quote Wayne Campbell from Wayne’s World 2 “… I’m starting to get hair in really weird places, man. I feel like I’m turning into Sasquatch.” No, not really. You do go through some cray cray changes that you forgot one single body could handle, though. Thankfully, I can attest to the fact that one does NOT spend the first three months hurling five times a day, every day. One doesn’t randomly faint, either. I’m sure that this has happened to many ladies out there but I’m here to attest that it doesn’t happen to everyone and what’s typical for some just doesn’t even come close to others. There is such thing as a pretty uneventful pregnancy and this is, happily, my case. It’s as if the baby and I have mutually agreed upon: “Listen up sister, I’ve got shit to do and people to see so if you don’t bother me, I won’t bother you and I’ll just go on with my business of making things happen.”
Geez I like her already for that attitude. Eyes on the prize, little one, eyes on the prize.
And that’s another point. Where is it written that the instant a woman becomes preggo she has to all of a sudden fall instantly in love with and drool over the pod growing inside? This of course is G’s instant reaction ” I LOVE THE BABY!” and all I can think is HOW can you love the baby? It hasn’t even introduced itself to us. For all we know, she might be a total drag. I’m just sayin’. I know most people will find this atrociously weird but the reality, for me, is this: yes I’m growing a life and yes I’m thankful things have gone well, but the truth is that I feel no real emotional bond with the baby – not yet. I’ve heard that his can be normal but again, I’m not about what’s “normal” or not, especially living here in Chile (all mom’s seem to be obsessed with their babies, to the point of annoyance.) If I hear one more mom tell me how her life has become all about the baby and that I will soon find out what it truly means to love, I’m going to f-ing snap. Shut the hell up, already.
Why such brash views, you ask? As I mentioned, my life has never revolved around having a baby. It’s never been my life goal or even a TOP FIVE life goal. I always thought of having a baby in a sort of abstract kind of way. Almost as if I’d someday become a mom by accident, kind of like how Diane Keaton became a mom in the 80s movie “Baby Boom” (she inherited the baby from a hick cousin.) In fact, all my life I’ve had two different “anxiety” dreams (you know, the kind where you find you’re naked in the middle of a crowded room.) My dream always involved me, going about my merry way in life, and randomly looking down and realizing that not only was I ready-to-pop pregnant but that I was being rushed to the hospital because I was literally about to pop. This whole notion that I was pregnant and didn’t even know it. I’ve seriously had this anxiety dream for my entire adult life. See? In my most subconscious of minds having a baby was always at the back of my mind.
I’m realizing that there is a lot of ground to cover with baby blogging. I’m sure I’ll be inclined to write more posts about the baby journey but initially I just wanted to throw it out there, for those who might care or even relate, that for the most part, I feel that this whole baby thing is weeeiiiiiirrrrrrd. Who would have imagined ME as a mom? I don’t even particularly like kids (so annoying) or their parents when they think that all someone else cares about is seeing their kid do something relatively stupid. Please God, don’t let me become that mom. NO ONE, and I mean NO ONE, likes that mom. I want to be a cool mom, a hip mom. Dress my kid in vintage corduroy rompers and such. Introduce her to the bass guitar and crocheting at the age of three.
Or I might just end up a deadbeat mom. Already I’m so over buying the baby anything that isn’t clothes. How much stuff does a baby need, anyway?? Can’t I just roll her into my sock drawer when she feels like sleeping and call it a day?
After all this, here’s the reality: I’m only half kidding with all these thoughts. There are certain things that are true of course, but some stuff is an exaggeration of what I truly feel, for comedic effects if you will. But what I truly feel, believe it or not, is hope. I hope this baby redefines the notion of “mom” and “baby” for me. I hope this baby brings together the true meaning of family for me (my notion of family is a whole other story that merits an independent blog post). I’m hopeful and excited to teach her about things that matter to me and hopefully she’ll teach me a thing or two of what matters to her. I’m a little selfish and deal with residual only-child syndrome so I imagine that, like the love-of-my-life dog, this baby is going to teach me a thing or two about total and unadulterated generosity.
I guess we’ll see about that, no? Whatever the matter, I’m on this road right now and there is no going back. I’m going to have a BABY. A BABY. What the hell am I going to do with a baby??
Come what may, shit’s about to get REAL.