As I expressed earlier, I have been reveling, grateful to God, in my pregnant state. I have begun to think of myself as being “in the midst of a miracle,” and it is a glorious place to be!
In my joy, I have not forgotten the long road traveled previously. I find myself cautious - when talking about my pregnancy - to use words that convey our struggle, the torturous waiting, and the solid belief it was never something we could have accomplished of our own will.
I do this in hopes that my sisters who suffer with infertility will not, as I once expressed the desire to, “shake her (in this case, my) perfect Barbie head off.”
I was a little nervous about telling a certain co-worker about my pregnancy. She tried for years to conceive by way of fertility drugs and several painful surgeries. It never became a reality for her.
Instead, she and her husband adopted two beautiful children. Her son is in college, and her daughter will graduate from high school this year.
When I approached her timidly, with ultrasound photos in hand, she surprised me by being overjoyed. She wrapped me in a bear hug and exclaimed happily over my alien-like child’s first photos.
She might be a Catholic, and I might be a Baptist, but when it comes to wanting children, we’ve both prayed in the same language. It was a wonderful shared moment.
I can’t say they’ve all been that way, though.
I guess, what I’m trying to say, is that…resentment I’d understand. I can see someone being a little bitter or angry about a pregnancy, because I, myself, have been that way.
What I can’t understand is the rudeness.
Here is the rudest statement I’ve received so far:
“Well, I hope you are prepared, because people are going to judge you. You knew you were not in the financial position to have a child, and you did nothing to prevent it.”
And, some variations on a theme:
“You think you’re tired now, just wait until…”
“You think you feel fat now…”
“You think don’t have any energy now…”
Well, excuse the heck out me for being happy about being pregnant. How about you go rain on somebody else’s parade, okay? Or just shut up. How about that? Why don’t you just shut up?
I was telling someone recently how I’d moved in maternity jeans.
She said, “Well, anyone who is moving into maternity jeans this early doesn’t really need to. I mean, women who do that just think they have a license to eat.”
I am a Christian. This is the only thing that prevented me from letting loose with a stream of words that would have melted her face off. As it was, it took all my self-control not to slam a stapler upside her head.
I consider that a spiritual victory.
For the most part, though, people have shared in our joy, and I’m grateful for it.
We had a scare during a recent appointment when the OB could not hear the baby’s heartbeat. In short order, I was treated to an ultrasound (our 3rd) where the baby’s heartbeat was immediately discernable.
As I breathed out a sigh of relief, I noticed Baby Sod was cuddled in a comfortable position with his/her profile perfectly displayed.
“Aww…it’s so cute,” I whispered happily.
“It is cute,” my OB agreed.
“This from a doctor who’s seen a 1,000 babies,” I joked.
His next words cracked me up.
“Believe me. They’re not all cute.”
As I studied my child’s profile on the screen, I couldn’t help but turn the negative statements I’d heard earlier around in my head.
“If you think your baby’s cute now, just wait until…”