The Big Niner

Holy balls. I'm nine months pregnant. This is it. All the preparation, bitching, moaning and complaining...All have been nothing compared to how hellish the 9th month is! Seriously. You would think the body was not designed to reproduce given how hard pregnancy is on a person. But like countless other women, i'll go on to give birth and months later i'll forget about what a pain in the ass pregnancy was and look back on it "fondly." Remember that hormones are the hired goons of the brain, and they have a funny way of making you forget how shitty you once felt after everything has gone back to normal. In fact, my hormones are already making me romanticize my pregnancy experiences so i'll share the gems of knowledge that i've gained from the past nine months:

1. Pregnant women who are single or who have shitty mates are FUCKING SAINTS. Seriously, there is no way in the world i could have handled pregnancy without my baby daddy helping me out the whole way through. The Head is just as responsible for getting me through these nine months as my reproductive tract and all those lovely hormones. Pregnancy is a two-person job and I deeply respect any woman that makes it through on her own.

2. By that same virtue, a good baby daddy is a FUCKING HERO. Maybe he escapes the burden of carrying said fetus, but he gets a lion's share of SHIT dumped on him. He endures psychotic outbursts and childbirth classes. He gets a first-hand account of the consistency and frequency of vaginal secretions. He does a shitty job cleaning the house, but he does it willingly and cheerfully and just good enough to keep the cockroaches and dog-fur dust bunnies at bay while his baby momma lays writhing on the couch with morning sickness. He provides door-to-door drop off service for his 9-month pregnant wife who can no longer waddle from the parking lot to her place of employment, even if that results in him being late to work. He helps his grossly pregnant mate get her pants on every morning, he tells her those stretch marks are "nothing to worry about because they will fade," and he tells her how pretty she is despite her awareness of multiple chins, swollen ankles, and the general sweaty pregnancy stench about her. I've heard women talk about how they "made their husbands quit drinking alcohol during pregnancy because they feel left out and its not fair, etc, etc." Those are some cruel bitches. Good baby daddy's should be allowed to drink as much as they want--they deserve it for their hard work. Throughout my pregnancy, i commanded that the Head drink daily and in large volumes.

3. People that write pregnancy off as a "natural body function" are sorely misguided. Sure, its natural, but that does not equate it with easy or safe or comfortable or imply that you can sit idly by and let it progress with no intervention. In fact, constant intervention is needed to keep mom and fetus healthy and good fucking luck delivering that baby into the world without a doctor or midwife on hand. Yeah, i guess DYING is a natural body function too but no one is gonna write that off as being easy or comfortable or ask why you are complaining so much about it.

4. As pregnant women, the world does seem to revolve around us. So its important to make the non-pregnant women in your life feel involved too. Girlfriends that love you love your pregnancy. Maybe the pregnant woman is sick of explaining what fake contractions feel like, the virtues of perineal massage, or defending her stance on breastfeeding, but your friends do want to know the details. They want to rub your belly. They want to take pictures of you despite how disgusting and how many chins you have. They want to tell you how adorably fat you look. Indulge them. I'm not saying to let acquaintances or just any old jerk on the street have these priviledges (in fact, those people should be slapped if necessary), but the girlfriends you love deserve special treatment. After all, they are cheering as hard as they can from the sidelines while you're a superstar just for walking your fat ass onto that pregnancy field.

5. And the most important lesson i've learned is that: I'm no longer in control. At first, this is frightening. Then it becomes emancipating. Because you just dont give a fuck about minor shit anymore. Sometimes you just gotta let shit happen. And then you have to not care about it. Priorities must be set: my husband, my baby, myself, my extended family and friends, my pets, and well, fuck. Nothing else is really THAT important. Sure jobs and money and looking good are important, but not THAT important. Corners can be cut . Details can be ignored. Cars can smell like wet dog, plans can get cancelled, you can pee your pants when you sneeze, you can trip and fall in front of a bunch of people at Target and the cat can barf in your shoe and it all really doesnt matter too much. But if my husband needs help at work, or the baby in my uterus starts hiccupping or my best friends send pictures of their new house--these are all things worth stopping your day for and paying attention to. And actually the cat is worth paying attention to as well, but just not its barf in my shoe.