You learn a lot of things being pregnant. I never realized what an educational time of your life pregnancy is. Among the many things I’ve learned in the last few months:
-Everyone has an opinion – and a medical degree. No matter what your doctor says, there are dozens of other people who can look at you and tell the exact opposite – and they are right.
-People are rude. They will say whatever is on their mind without thinking. They ask the most ridiculous questions, such as “Are you really sure you’re only having 1?” They think nothing of telling you how HUGE you are and you must have been due days ago.
My recent favorite: “Does your belly get in the way of the steering wheel when you drive?” If I say yes is this an offer to chauffeur me around for the next 4 weeks?
-When people ask what you plan to name the baby, they don’t really want to know unless you are planning to name that child after them or whatever their dream name is. No matter what name you choose, you will get grief and comments about the name.
-People always like to complain to pregnant women about how tired they are. Do they figure the lady who doesn’t get more than 2 hours sleep/night as she is getting kicked, punched, and jabbed and has to pee every 2 hours will sympathize with their plight?
-When people ask you how your feeling - they don’t want to know. It’s just a lead-in for them to tell you how awful their pregnancy and delivery were. Thereby putting you on notice that you have nothing to complain about because they were much worse off.
-People have an obsession with boobs. Everyone is always interested in whether I will be breast-feeding or not. There is an ulterior motive to this question.
Only those who have strong opinions on breast-feeding children until they live on their own ask this. If you say yes, you pass the test and then get a ton of unsolicited advice. If you say no, you get the look and they judge you as an inferior parent.
Well, I got news for the breast-feeding cults out there. My son was only breast-fed for 2 weeks and he is currently an 8-year-old academically gifted child and superior athlete with no physical or mental issues - and he doesn’t blame me for not loving him enough to shove my boobs down his throat. Maybe my breast milk is so superior that it only needs 2 weeks to work all that magic? I guess that is this Supermom’s magical powers.
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