Thursday, September 8, 2011

A Thousand Times Over...And Over...And Over

It's funny. In the beginning when people find out your pregnant, the advice and comments you get are encouraging and helpful. When you're nine or ten weeks along and feeling like poo, the words "it gets better" and "here's what I did that helped my sickness" are incredibly encouraging and helpful...and when you finally start feeling better, you're beyond grateful to those lovely encouraging people and their words that spoke no lie.

Then you hit the second trimester, and though this one is sometimes filled with inappropriate comments about the size of your belly....and worse, inappropriate touching of your belly, it's generally another trimester of people oogling over your growing, adorable self and reminiscing about how wonderful their own second trimesters may have been. It's not so bad. In fact, the second trimester kinda rocked.

Then came the third. And the eight million moms who come out of the woodwork and start telling you a thousand times over....and over....and over about how painful their deliveries were, how horribly long they were, how little sleep they got when their infant arrived. I've heard now about a million barfing baby stories, 200,000 breastfeeding horror stories, and so many poopy diaper stories that were so utterly gross, I've lost count and developed a way to look like I'm paying attention...but really I'm watching I Love Lucy in my head....

I don't really understand this concept of scaring the poo out of women who are weeks or a few short months away from giving birth. Is it really necessary to make mommyhood seem so awful, so messy, so exhausting and so BLAH that I almost kinda want to keep my kid in my belly forever? I mean, really...what is it about a hugely pregnant woman and the need to tell her about the sleepless nights and husbands who weren't super hands on?

I'm not a fan of this concept. I want to like being a new mommy. I don't want to look back and think of giving birth as this horrifically painful experience...I want to look at it for what it is: labor. It's work, it won't be easy...but the end result will be so worth it. And those sleepless nights, spit-ups, poops and breastfeeding troubles? The goal isn't to resent them or look back with disdain later down the road. The goal is to take everything as it comes and deal with it all...and then look back, appreciate the experiences...and laugh.

Now, that doesn't seem so bad...does it?

No comments:

Post a Comment