PSA for Pregnant Ladies, You’re Welcome

Today David notified me of the fact that the pain of childbirth is equivalent to that of having ten bones crushed. This fact came from Facebook, which certainly calls its veracity into question, but hey, sounds about right to me. We’re approaching Boo’s first birthday, and I find myself looking back to this time a year ago, and primarily recalling my body mass, and all the sleep I got. And the delicious, hip restaurants we used to go to (Le Pichet, and The Saint are <were?!> our favorites). Anyway, I was pretty big this time last year, but happy. I was working a fair amount, but knew that nothing I typed or calculated or forecasted really mattered. It was very much the calm before the storm.

While out for a run last weekend, I saw a woman walking who appeared to be just a year behind me in pregnantness, I wanted to cheer for her “Go, go, go! You can do it!” I was feeling unusually peppy. She didn’t really look like she needed the cheer, though. She must have been in the calm – which made me want to switch gears, and whip her into a tizzy with the impending reality. I really don’t know why, but I feel I owe women the truth. No one else is saying just how ridiculous having a baby is. People talk about how you don’t sleep much, and blah, blah, blah, but really it is BATS. You don’t do any of things you used to do, and you spend all your time at home trying to keep this little animal alive, and the little animal screams a lot, and sucks your lifeblood from your body, and you don’t have any family nearby and everything is so hard. So hard. I’ll save my childbirth rant for November when we commemorate the day that it felt like ten of my bones were being crushed at once.

Anyway, what I really should tell the 7.5 months pregnant lady after a few hearty cheers of “go, go, go!” is that things calm down – you get used to little sleep, and you figure out that you totally think this little animal is silly and sweet and you LOVE it. Then as proof, I’ll show her the little chimp clinging to my shirt, and make him do some of his 10 month-old tricks. I’ll try not to let it slip that my baby is super-advanced so as to keep her spirits high before things get BATS.

Boo, looking very cute


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