The Cult of the Mommy and other Pregnancy Fun...
Warning: If you're easily offended by anything, you may want to skip this entry. You have been warned.
I was beginning to think there was something wrong with me specifically. I'm nearly 7 months pregnant, and some how I've managed to not be overwhelmed by joy and/or wonder at the life growing inside me. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy that the baby is doing well. However, I'm totally not getting the seemingly transcendent experience that is seemingly normal for pregnant women. At least that's how it appears to me now. Growing up, I was surrounded by pregnant women, and I can honestly say that they weren't behaving like heroine addicts about the pregnancy either.
I don't understand it either. Honestly. I'm entirely too uncomfortable to be sitting around being horrifyingly happy all the time. Nine months of being insanely happy? Um. No. I'll be happy when the baby is here, and safe, and healthy. But to me, pregnancy is just a means to an end. It's not fucking enjoyable in any sense of the word.
And seriously, I'm sick of people dismissing the symptoms or issues in pregnancy like they're nothing. I know it's normal, and the symptoms are normal. However, normal =/= pleasant. Or fun. If a disease had all these symptoms, science and medicine would be working hard to eradicate it. But because it's pregnancy, you can just dismiss it and say "Suck it up" or better "But it's all worth it because of the baby." Yes, yes. Babies are great. And pregnancy is great when you are not the one who is pregnant. Excuse me while I sing 'Happy Happy, Joy Joy.' Also, Fuck You.
What the Fuck?
Becoming a mother is a pinnacle of my existence? Squeezing my offspring out of my nether regions should be orgasmic? Not only that, being pregnant should make my husband love me more and be nicer to me? (I submit exhibit A for your perusal. http://pregnancy.more4kids.info/173/the-joy-of-pregnancy/ ) Listen, I've been a mother without having to give birth for 20 years now. Seriously. I know what I'm in store for as far as pregnancy, childbirth, and childrearing go. None of these things strike me as particularly pinnacle-esque. I don't lose my identity to my child. I don't stop having a life, opinions, or a brain because I'm having a child. I gain a lot of positive and negative things. I know it's worth it. But great tap-dancing Jeebus, what is with the cult like attitude? If you don't agree to worship the great baby monster, you're a horrible person and mother. 0_0
Maybe it's because I've been a member of what basically is a Fertility religion. Maybe I just got the wonder out of my system already. Maybe it's because I think that children will enhance my life as much as I can enhance theirs. But worshiping your children completely misses the point of being a parent to me. Seeing it as the greatest achievement I can possibly have in my life cheapens my life and lessens the positive influence or the kind of role model I can be for my children. I want them to see me as a strong, intelligent, talented, and creative woman. I want them to see me as a good example of how to behave. I don't want them to think of me as some ninny who is so overwhelmed with the love of them that I can't function on any cognizant level. Or someone whose major achievement in life was equal to a feral cat, and the ability to cook and clean and have a man maintain me.
So the parents are one half of the pain-in-the-ass-ed-ness I've been having. The other half are the advice givers. Now I know I complained about this before, and I'm sorry for repeating myself but if I don't get it off my chest I'm going to decapitate someone. I'm having sciatica and it's making it so I can't sleep and can't get comfortable no matter what I do. And that shit makes Kay a cranky panda. Especially with some people telling me things like "Well, at least that shooting, horrible pain that nothing relieves and makes your legs give out tells you that the baby is doing well!"
1. Don't tell me what language I should speak to my children. Fuck you. Who the hades are you to tell me what language I should speak IN MY OWN HOME, WITH MY HUSBAND AND CHILDREN. Again, in the nicest way I can possibly say it FUCK YOU. I dealt with you people saying shit like that when it came to my husband and I, how he wasn't allowed to speak English to me at home. I even had to yell at my husband several times for insisting that people outside the home not speak English to me. That's between me and whomever it is that I'm talking to. Not a third person. And you certainly have no place telling me how I should communicate with my children.
2. Don't ask me what name we've chosen, and then proceed to question it or make fun of it. What the fuck is wrong with you? Do not tell me I should give them a normal Dutch name. Last time I checked, the child will only be half Dutch. Not only that, plenty of Dutch names do not work in English, and plenty of English names do not work in Dutch. Also, my husband and I have not been particularly impressed with any of the "Dutch" names we've come across. My husband's name is not Dutch. It's Latin. His sister's name is Greek and Arabic. His mother's name is Greek. His father's is Biblical, which last time I checked, is also not Dutch. My name is not surprisingly also NOT DUTCH. Get over it. You do not get to name OUR CHILD. And if you continue to make fun of our child's name, you will not be allowed anywhere near our child.
3. For the last time I'm not having twins. Yes, I'm sure. You asking me repeatedly is not going to change my answer.
4. I'm not a pregnant unwed teenager so you can wipe that nasty look off your face when you glance in my direction. Not only that, but you shouldn't be treating pregnant unwed teenagers like that either. You people suck and make me sad to be part of the same society as you.
5. Your parenting advice, while sweet, is entirely misplaced. I've already done this. More than once. I do, in fact, know what I'm doing. Please stop. I've tried the 'smile and nod' thing. I've tried the 'change the subject' thing. You won't shut the fuck up. I'm hormonal and losing my patience. I will soon come to the point where I just ream you out. Don't make me go there.
And lastly, #6. Stop pressuring me. Seriously. I really do not need a 1000 euro stroller. I do not need crazy baby things. I'm aware of what I actually do need, and what I can do without. I'm horrified by the implication that spending zillions of euros on my children will make me a better parent. It may be a good way to try to guilt people into buying tons of expensive shit that they don't need, but I'd rather be an actually good parent than a parent with a lot of needless, expensive baby crap. Spending money on needless bullshit sends the wrong message to my children, that possessions will be able to fill any emotional void that they have, or that they have more value if they have more stuff. And spending needless amounts of money will stress out my husband and I more than we need to be. Being stressed out about money, because our kids now need junk to feel loved or fulfilled is only going to have a detrimental effect on our children.
Ok, that's it. I'm done for now. But I'm sure I'll bitch about this again before I pop out our little Imbrium turkey. :P
I was beginning to think there was something wrong with me specifically. I'm nearly 7 months pregnant, and some how I've managed to not be overwhelmed by joy and/or wonder at the life growing inside me. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy that the baby is doing well. However, I'm totally not getting the seemingly transcendent experience that is seemingly normal for pregnant women. At least that's how it appears to me now. Growing up, I was surrounded by pregnant women, and I can honestly say that they weren't behaving like heroine addicts about the pregnancy either.
I don't understand it either. Honestly. I'm entirely too uncomfortable to be sitting around being horrifyingly happy all the time. Nine months of being insanely happy? Um. No. I'll be happy when the baby is here, and safe, and healthy. But to me, pregnancy is just a means to an end. It's not fucking enjoyable in any sense of the word.
And seriously, I'm sick of people dismissing the symptoms or issues in pregnancy like they're nothing. I know it's normal, and the symptoms are normal. However, normal =/= pleasant. Or fun. If a disease had all these symptoms, science and medicine would be working hard to eradicate it. But because it's pregnancy, you can just dismiss it and say "Suck it up" or better "But it's all worth it because of the baby." Yes, yes. Babies are great. And pregnancy is great when you are not the one who is pregnant. Excuse me while I sing 'Happy Happy, Joy Joy.' Also, Fuck You.
What the Fuck?
Becoming a mother is a pinnacle of my existence? Squeezing my offspring out of my nether regions should be orgasmic? Not only that, being pregnant should make my husband love me more and be nicer to me? (I submit exhibit A for your perusal. http://pregnancy.more4kids.info/173/the-joy-of-pregnancy/ ) Listen, I've been a mother without having to give birth for 20 years now. Seriously. I know what I'm in store for as far as pregnancy, childbirth, and childrearing go. None of these things strike me as particularly pinnacle-esque. I don't lose my identity to my child. I don't stop having a life, opinions, or a brain because I'm having a child. I gain a lot of positive and negative things. I know it's worth it. But great tap-dancing Jeebus, what is with the cult like attitude? If you don't agree to worship the great baby monster, you're a horrible person and mother. 0_0
Maybe it's because I've been a member of what basically is a Fertility religion. Maybe I just got the wonder out of my system already. Maybe it's because I think that children will enhance my life as much as I can enhance theirs. But worshiping your children completely misses the point of being a parent to me. Seeing it as the greatest achievement I can possibly have in my life cheapens my life and lessens the positive influence or the kind of role model I can be for my children. I want them to see me as a strong, intelligent, talented, and creative woman. I want them to see me as a good example of how to behave. I don't want them to think of me as some ninny who is so overwhelmed with the love of them that I can't function on any cognizant level. Or someone whose major achievement in life was equal to a feral cat, and the ability to cook and clean and have a man maintain me.
So the parents are one half of the pain-in-the-ass-ed-ness I've been having. The other half are the advice givers. Now I know I complained about this before, and I'm sorry for repeating myself but if I don't get it off my chest I'm going to decapitate someone. I'm having sciatica and it's making it so I can't sleep and can't get comfortable no matter what I do. And that shit makes Kay a cranky panda. Especially with some people telling me things like "Well, at least that shooting, horrible pain that nothing relieves and makes your legs give out tells you that the baby is doing well!"
1. Don't tell me what language I should speak to my children. Fuck you. Who the hades are you to tell me what language I should speak IN MY OWN HOME, WITH MY HUSBAND AND CHILDREN. Again, in the nicest way I can possibly say it FUCK YOU. I dealt with you people saying shit like that when it came to my husband and I, how he wasn't allowed to speak English to me at home. I even had to yell at my husband several times for insisting that people outside the home not speak English to me. That's between me and whomever it is that I'm talking to. Not a third person. And you certainly have no place telling me how I should communicate with my children.
2. Don't ask me what name we've chosen, and then proceed to question it or make fun of it. What the fuck is wrong with you? Do not tell me I should give them a normal Dutch name. Last time I checked, the child will only be half Dutch. Not only that, plenty of Dutch names do not work in English, and plenty of English names do not work in Dutch. Also, my husband and I have not been particularly impressed with any of the "Dutch" names we've come across. My husband's name is not Dutch. It's Latin. His sister's name is Greek and Arabic. His mother's name is Greek. His father's is Biblical, which last time I checked, is also not Dutch. My name is not surprisingly also NOT DUTCH. Get over it. You do not get to name OUR CHILD. And if you continue to make fun of our child's name, you will not be allowed anywhere near our child.
3. For the last time I'm not having twins. Yes, I'm sure. You asking me repeatedly is not going to change my answer.
4. I'm not a pregnant unwed teenager so you can wipe that nasty look off your face when you glance in my direction. Not only that, but you shouldn't be treating pregnant unwed teenagers like that either. You people suck and make me sad to be part of the same society as you.
5. Your parenting advice, while sweet, is entirely misplaced. I've already done this. More than once. I do, in fact, know what I'm doing. Please stop. I've tried the 'smile and nod' thing. I've tried the 'change the subject' thing. You won't shut the fuck up. I'm hormonal and losing my patience. I will soon come to the point where I just ream you out. Don't make me go there.
And lastly, #6. Stop pressuring me. Seriously. I really do not need a 1000 euro stroller. I do not need crazy baby things. I'm aware of what I actually do need, and what I can do without. I'm horrified by the implication that spending zillions of euros on my children will make me a better parent. It may be a good way to try to guilt people into buying tons of expensive shit that they don't need, but I'd rather be an actually good parent than a parent with a lot of needless, expensive baby crap. Spending money on needless bullshit sends the wrong message to my children, that possessions will be able to fill any emotional void that they have, or that they have more value if they have more stuff. And spending needless amounts of money will stress out my husband and I more than we need to be. Being stressed out about money, because our kids now need junk to feel loved or fulfilled is only going to have a detrimental effect on our children.
Ok, that's it. I'm done for now. But I'm sure I'll bitch about this again before I pop out our little Imbrium turkey. :P