Once I heard the baby's heartbeat, I realized this was actually happening. I'm going to be a mom. This was what I wanted, right? To have a little person who was part my husband and part me. A family to have those noisy Christmas mornings, to love and hug. This was going to be awesome.
Somewhere around seven months, I realized something else. I was going to have to deliver this baby. Holy smoly, Batman. I kept trying to block it out, but, somewhere along the line in some form or another, this was going to be a reality.
Enter the birthing class. The funny thing about walking into a room full of expecting couples is that you suddenly see you aren't the only one who truly has no idea what is going to happen. And, oh how many ways it can happen.
To be honest, I don't get people who decide to not take a birthing class. If nothing else, I received the best massage from my baby daddy (that term makes me giggle, so I have to use it) during the relaxation technique portion. And on the other hand, I heard the pros and cons.
The really crazy part was taking all that knowledge back to work (remember there were FOUR of us expecting all within 4 months or so...) and freaking out with each other. About the pain. How we were going to try not to kill our husbands for doing what they did (ha!). The pain. What to pack...what to wear. The pain.
The waiting wasn't the worst part. It was talking about it. And that was also the best part. Because we all realized we weren't alone.
But I would be going first into the great unknown...
So the rule? You aren't alone. And it's fun to torture your fellow expecting ladies with your story after it's all said and done. *grin*
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Thursday, January 5, 2012
My Favorite Thing
I've always thought that people who say they love being pregnant are off their rocker. Who could possibly be happy about no caffeine, or a big ol' yummy Subway...or even a glass of wine? Not to mention having to buy new clothes as your waistline slowly disappears. Or expands even bigger. and how about the nauseousness that has the misnomer of "morning sickness"? (I suppose it's morning somewhere in the world at any time.)
Ew.
Don't get me wrong. I liked being pregnant. But not for the reasons that most people probably did.
My favorite thing?
People were incredibly nice to me. In a time when people communicate mostly through technology (how many texts have you've gotten today?), you've got to be worried that one day, we won't know how to speak with one another face to face. Even today, road rage seeps it's way into what I like to call line rage. Let's face it. When you need to buy something, you usually have to stand in a line. Yet, every single time we get surprised that we have to wait in line and there aren't magical cashiers that pop up when we are ready to skedaddle. Then, the line rage takes over. Trust me, I see it every time my husband goes grocery shopping or we step in to Target.
But I digress...
Strangers weren't merely nice...they were happy for me (not counting those breastfeeding questions. I'm attempting to block those out of my mind.). They asked what I was having, when I was due (which was fine, until the lil man decided he wanted to bake longer than his timer said), if I had a name picked out (a few, but we were keeping them to ourselves...mostly), and if he was our first. All with smiles, congratulations, and wishes of luck.
Hmmm....this may just mean we still can talk to each other face to face. With a smile on our faces. Now, how can we get this to work during the Holidays. Or when my husband is waiting in line...
Ew.
Don't get me wrong. I liked being pregnant. But not for the reasons that most people probably did.
My favorite thing?
People were incredibly nice to me. In a time when people communicate mostly through technology (how many texts have you've gotten today?), you've got to be worried that one day, we won't know how to speak with one another face to face. Even today, road rage seeps it's way into what I like to call line rage. Let's face it. When you need to buy something, you usually have to stand in a line. Yet, every single time we get surprised that we have to wait in line and there aren't magical cashiers that pop up when we are ready to skedaddle. Then, the line rage takes over. Trust me, I see it every time my husband goes grocery shopping or we step in to Target.
But I digress...
Strangers weren't merely nice...they were happy for me (not counting those breastfeeding questions. I'm attempting to block those out of my mind.). They asked what I was having, when I was due (which was fine, until the lil man decided he wanted to bake longer than his timer said), if I had a name picked out (a few, but we were keeping them to ourselves...mostly), and if he was our first. All with smiles, congratulations, and wishes of luck.
Hmmm....this may just mean we still can talk to each other face to face. With a smile on our faces. Now, how can we get this to work during the Holidays. Or when my husband is waiting in line...
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