Giving Things Up

Even though I should be a pro at guesstimating my due date by now, my jaw dropped when I found out that my assumptions on my current pregnancy were wrong. It's likely that yours were too. Don't worry, this is normal and not the beginnings of bad parenting.

We (moms) swear to know the moment of conception. We begin to count out the seconds, days (or nights), and weeks to predict our own due date. So, it's no surprise that when the doc pulls out the plastic, color-coded calender wheel from their official doctor jacket, we are baffled to learn that we are more than a few weeks off.

Have you ever truly read the statistics on pregnancy? Wait! Don't! In fact, don't read anything about pregnancy when you're pregnant - the contradictions from one doctor's book/article to the next will make you hysterical. Pregnancy is so complicated that even the pros can't agree on the subject. But, that's a topic for some other time.

In a traditional reproductive method, more than 100-million sperm are released and only 1 of those will make its way through several layers of a woman's egg, and that's only if the woman is ovulating, which means there is an egg available for the sperm to fertilize. (I wonder if this is where the term "one-in-a-million" came from?) If the egg is not there, the little guys will hang out for about 5 days waiting on the female egg, which is typical of a male:female relationship. With such a complicated and time sensitive occurrence, how can pregnant women expect to ever figure out when the fertilization process began? So, give up trying.

Another jaw dropper for us moms is when we find out that we're actually preggo for 10 months and not the suggested 9 months we've heard ever since sex-ed class in junior high. From the time of conception to the average time a baby is born at 42 weeks is really 10 & 1/2 months. WTF? Trust me, I'm feelin' your pain! 

The first time I became pregnant it was "we're pregnant" as in me and my husband. I didn't think twice about giving up certain things deemed bad for my health and the health of the baby for 42 weeks. With this pregnancy, there's a stronger emphasis on the "I" and what I'm giving up. It includes everything that I can't, or that I am not suppose to do. When I found out this time, after I had my "Oh shit" moment, I thought about another long, hot summer with morning sickness, no more caffeinated beverages, another 10 months of dark roots, and another beerless football season.

Then I did something a woman never has to give up when they're preggo - I went shopping.

Until next time, it's all fun and games until someone gets pregnant...

Congratulations, you're pregnant!

"But...but...but" and all the scenarios begin to run through your mind. Suddenly the phrase "romping around" takes on an entirely new meaning in your life.

Okay, so now what?

With a misleading congratulatory smile and handshake, that I've now labeled as "good luck with that", your OB hands over an overwhelming bag full of samples - baby food, power bars, nausea candy, nipple cream - pamphlets on nausea medicine, postpartum depression, college savings plans, blood-chord registry, breast feeding Vs. bottle feeding, which is different from the breastmilk Vs. formula pamphlet, 3D imaging centers that allow you to see your baby floating in amniotic fluid, and paperwork about amniocentesis testing, which requires the insertion of an oversize hollow needle through the mother's abdomen, into the uterus to withdraw amniotic fluid from the womb, so a mom can find out the most crucial genetic details of the baby.

All of the samples, pamphlets and paperwork discuss the extreme circumstances of what can go wrong alongside colorful photos of beautiful babies and happy mothers - what a crock!
No wonder why mother's are predisposed to worry, all of this is too much information too early.

Then, as soon as the word spreads that you're pregnant, everyone has their two-cent advice to give. Whether you ask for it or not.
From the docs it's the bag, from your friends it's "Oh, you need to read this book and that one but don't worry I have a copy of all 5 that I can give you" and it only gets worse from there.

Then your parents - and if there is a he involved, his parents - have advice from the prehistoric days when cloth diapers were still the fashion. "Don't worry if the baby gets sick, I've raised 7 boys and sugar-water does the trick everytime, honey. Docs these days have kids on so much medicine, no wonder why they're sick all the time."

Then you have those close to you, and sometimes random people, who give advice based on hearsay. However, their advice is mostly opinion-based because they don't have kids and likely no experience with kids at all. ALL mothers should use these people as a means to learn the process of selective hearing. This may be bold, but NEVER listen to these people. I can say this because I use to be an opinionated woman with no kids and no experience raising one, judging moms across the world. Before motherhood, I would feel the need to comfort a child getting spanked in the cereal isle, now I look at the situation and say "Thank God that's not me today! That poor mom."

The only people that seem to mind their own business about my pregnancy and the way I raise my kids are my grandparents. My grandparents just want to hold the baby, watch every precious little finger, wrinkle and slight movement. This can go on for hours. They never ask what kind of bottles I am using, or why I'm not breastfeeding, or yell at me because the baby doesn't have socks on. They just want to hold and coo their great-grandbaby for as long as the baby will let them.

For what it's worth, the first time I brought the congratulatory OB bag home I went straight for the samples. After 10-minutes of trying to free the first one from its airtight plastic wrap, I had had enough. I quickly picked out the coupons for the baby stores and dumped the rest. That's pretty much the same method I've used ever since. Actually, I was a bit disappointed that the bag from this pregnancy wasn't a bit more stylish, I was hoping to use it as a travel bag for the baby. I probably will anyways.

Until next time, count to ten or call a friend...