You got pregnant. Yay! You are now part of some giant, underground club that you had no idea existed before you started cooking up that bun in your oven. Welcome! In case you haven’t been taught yet, the secret handshake is some random stranger rubbing your belly in the produce department – not just anywhere, it’s only the produce department. I’m not sure why this is, maybe because “Family Education” classes use cucumbers to teach teens proper prophylactic placement and you obviously ditched school that day or maybe it’s just the plethora of plant offspring surrounding you in all your pregnant glory – whatever it is, some crazy lady in elastic waist band pants is going to put her mitts on your belly. Congrats!
As a new member there are some rules that you must adhere to. The first, and most time consuming, is that you must hear at least 20 club members tell you 20 different things that all begin with the phrase, “I’m only going to give you one piece of advice…….” Oh, you’ll like these, don’t worry……all 400. Rule number two is that you must hear at least 10 stories of the scariest, grossest, most terrifying birthing stories ever…..you know, just to prepare you for the big day! And my personal favorite rule is that every one you know with a toddler must come visit you or invite you to lunch and then allow their heathen, rotten, spoiled, screaming child to destroy your house or terrorize an entire restaurant during lunch rush. If you do not know any members of the club with toddlers one with a colicky infant will do just as well but you are required to hold this screaming, red faced baby until it spits up on you. Yay again!
Ok seriously now, some things you must endure when you become pregnant and some things you can graciously say, “no thank you” to. It’s ok, you can – don’t feel bad. Random people rubbing your tummy? NO THANK YOU. But how do you say it without feeling rude? Beats me – I was too nice to say no during my first tour in pregnancy land, by the second I had that look….you know.....the look. Maybe they should make a little Velcro patch that goes on your shirt “it’s not a lamp, please don’t rub it.” And stories about births? NO THANK YOU. As soon as someone starts saying, “well when I was giving birth…” you jump in with, “wait, is this going to be G rated? If this is a scary story I’d rather hear it after I have my own.” Or you can just listen if you want, sometimes it’s a great way to learn what you DON’T want to do!
This one is the worst though…..the ADVICE. There’s so much and no way to remember it all and besides, some things you want to be surprised by or proud that you learned them on your own. Since you can’t say, “Hey lady – this is my rodeo!” what do you say? Once again, beats me – I just let it ride………
I must have heard a lot of advice when I was pregnant with my first – I have a mother, a step-mother, a mother-in-law, a stepmother-in-law and my husband was raised by his grandmother…..that’s a LOT of members of the club giving me info and those are just my mother figures! I'm sure that there was a lot of good stuff in all that advice.......but I only remember one thing. It was like this one golden nugget in the midst of the 3000 pebbles…..cut their nails while they’re sleeping. It was from my husband’s stepmother, Deb, who I was just getting to know. After trying to cut my daughters teeny nails with her tiny, soft hands wriggling around and moving just as I went in each time, I finally let her fall asleep and then - snip, snip, snip. It’s been ten years and I still remember the relief I felt. Sometimes…..there’s a nugget, you just have to try a few pebbles before you find it. Thank you Deb!
Oh did you think you were getting away with just that? No no, you’re getting one piece of advice from me…..I’m a card-carrying member of the club, I get to give advice! I don’t care how much you’ve heard already! I'm just going to give you ONE piece of advice and I wish someone had told me this when I was pregnant with my first, it would have saved a lot of guilt, a lot of frustration and a lot of tears for both of us……”Every mom wants to shake her baby, GOOD moms just don’t.” We aren’t saints, we’re exhausted, beat down, desperate for five minutes of quiet and for some unknown reason this baby (or child because this rule works for forever!) won’t stop crying. It’s ok, really – we’ve been there, I’ve been there. That baby has been crying for 20 minutes…..5 more won’t hurt him. Walk away. Sit down on the porch where you can hear the crying but it’s not all you can hear – take some deep breaths, listen to the cars on the street, the wind, the birds - whatever, just remember that life is still going on around you, maybe even have yourself your own crying fit - then, try again......and remember, even though it's pretty cheap to send a 12 pound child to Guam, the insurance is ridiculous!
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