Fear and Loathing in Pregnancy Land

Most women at this stage in their pregnancy are fretting about what kind of mother they'll be, the pains of labor or how they'll make it through the day-to-day of caring for a new person.

Naturally, I can't be bothered with such plebeian concerns.

I have REAL fears. REAL concerns. Based on years and years of crazy I have honed to a perfect point of insanity.

The Baby Shower
Being the center of attention makes me break out in a sweat. A nasty, dripping, uncontrollable sweat that no amount of deodorant can prevent. This makes total sense when you consider I opted, on purpose, to get my undergraduate degree in theater. See. Totally makes sense--for a person with a cruel intent on punishing herself for no good reason.

My girlfriends (to my understanding) are making the shower as painless a possible. And while I don't doubt them for a minute, I'm still freaking. Because I know in the near future I will be forced to be the center of attention. And that thought is about as petrifying as watching someone playing with a balloon. (This may or may not be another irrational totally understandable fear. I mean, you just don't know when that balloon is going to pop. Oh, it's going to pop...but when??? The anticipation is nauseatingly nerve-wracking.)

Talking to People on the Phone
There are exactly 4 people in the world who I talk to on the phone for enjoyment purposes.

I am a results-oriented personality, so I consider talking for the sake of talking a waste of time. If you want to get together, email and let's plan something. I don't need to chit chat before we get together to chit chat. In fact, the phone pre-chit chat is detrimental since I only have so much to say and I'll likely use it all up during the phone call and then be left staring vacantly at you when we meet up.

So, the inevitable slew of phone calls once The Bean makes her entrance is already making me itchy.

Ready? Here's the script: "Yep, she's here. It's great. Labor hurt, but it was all worthwhile. Yep, I'm tired. No, she's not really doing anything other than eating, sleeping and pooping. That's about it......so......do you think the NFL will come to an agreement soon?"

The Unexpected Visitors
Worse than the phone calls are the unexpected visitors; who, from my understanding, show up a lot right after the baby expulsion.

I think it's totally swell that you don't care whether or not I've showered or put on a new shirt in four days, but I CARE. So now I stink AND have to make polite conversation. Two of my least favorite things at once.

Having to Socialize with Breeders Only
I'm not mommy club material. Unlike many moms-to-be, I am well-prepared for the solitary lifestyle most new mothers are shocked and depressed with facing. I work from home, so I'm already quite familiar with being home all day, every day with no adult interaction.

I have no desire to join a mommy club and talk about the different color poop my child makes, complain about not being my pre-pregnancy weight or bitching about my husband's unwillingness to meet my every passing, irrational fancy.

The only reason to join a mommy club would be to showcase how much more awesome The Bean is than every other child. Ever. (Except yours) But that would just be joining for all the wrong reasons.

The thing is, non-breeders are reluctant to hang out with you once you are sporting the latest in baby accessories.



So yeah...episiotomy, a non-latching baby, finding the time to sleep...all drops in the bucket when you compare it to the fear of hearing the phone ring.