5 Things I Resent About Being Pregnant

I am not pregnant, just in case you were wondering. Actually I wrote this 6 years ago, when I was just a little bit pregnant with K-dog. Which was not only my first pregnancy,  but when well before I started to blog. This week I was thinking of reviving and old blog post, but this is even better. I wrote this email to a couple of my extra congratulatory childless friends.  The fact that this was 6 years ago (almost exactly) makes it just that much more funny (and tragic).  Things never turn out the way you expect them. A couple of my internet, and real life friends have just had babies, or gotten pregnant. There is always the appeal of the sweet smelling, squishy, little baby... Don't get me wrong, I love my babies, and there are really lots of great things about being a mom. But this is my reality cheack to all of the baby bump envy out there.

---------- Forwarded message ----------
From: Kisha Patterson-Tanski <kisha.lynn@gmail.com>
Date: Thu, Mar 23, 2006 at 6:57 PM
Subject: Five things that I resent about being … well you know… with symbiant, I mean child.

9 weeks into my 2nd pregnancy,
apparently I didn't learn my lesson!

1. I do not like eating and sleeping all the time, especially when I can't tell the people at work why I've suddenly started gaining weight, and putting my head on my keyboard because I'm afraid they'll cheat me out of my well deserved raise. No one seems to understand that I am either hungry or nauseous all the time and therefore feel like I have a tapeworm instead of a baby. Now where are the carrot sticks I hid in my desk?

2. I resent that NO ONE has asked or will ask my husband if he will be returning to work full time.  We both will be parents right? He has much more experience with babies being the oldest of four; I have NEVER changed a diaper.
Nevertheless, I have been working on the no-penis-discount-employee pay scale for my whole career, and make 75% of what he makes; there is no question.  I want to be a good mother, and I don't really like my job that much, but if I have to spend the next five years covered in vomit, and formula I may become homicidal*and that would be bad for the baby.

3. Whenever I suggest that the husband's Jeep Wrangler, which has two doors, and two seats, a tent for a top, and a one in five chance of flipping over whenever we get onto the interstate, is not an appropriate vehicle for baby, I become Grinch who Stole Boyhood.  Why do I keep apologizing for wanting to sell the jolly green giant and buy a CAR, which people including my visiting grandmother, child and self could actually get into without the assistance of a crane?  All I want is a Silver 2006 VW GTI manual, with a BlouPunkt sound system, sunroof and Thule rack for all those trips to Ikea.  Besides, it would get MUCH BETTER GAS MILEAGE.  I will settle for any thing that is on tires less than 30", having four doors, and not intended for bringing democracy to the 38^th parallel.

4. I am pregnant not on chemo and I wish all these well-meaning people, including my adorable husband, would stop asking me if I just puked. For those of you who do not know, talking about throwing up makes me feel like throwing up.  I have been asked so many times that I am beginning to feel inadequate because despite persistent nausea I have not just puked.  Nor do I feel like going into the intricacies and specifics of my gastrointestinal symptoms with anyone who does not have a medical degree.  When I have gas and want to share, you will know.

5. I resent the fact that I had to find out when only 4 weeks pregnant, this leaves between 34 and 40 weeks of waiting.  If it were not for damn impatient people and the EPT Company, I could have had at least another three to four weeks of just wondering if I was pregnant, and congratulating myself for finally getting my breast to come in. In that ignorant bliss I would still, in good conscience, be able to stay up late to watch Sex in the City, eat bread that was NOT whole grain, and occasionally drink the good pulp-free orange juice instead of the ultra fortified "with Calcium" kind which really means "with so much bitter pulp you have to chew it" kind.  I am not convinced that a few days with out the prenatal horse pills would have stunted junior growth that much.

On the up side hubby has to change the cat litter, and my nails seems to be growing (damn it I just broke one).

Well is isn't all bad,
with any luck you get one of these in the end
(K-dog @ 1 hr. old)

*Fortunately I breastfed both of my children so I had no contact with formula, and K-Dog, thank every benevolent force in the world, wasn't too much of a puker. So after 5 years being a stay at home mom, I'm only a little nutty. I am ready to get back to the working world, but the economy has not quite co-operated.  And we love our Suburu.