In defense of marriage

Several years ago, when I lived in DC, I had a conversation with a friend that has come back to haunt me. My friend commented on how many pregnant women she saw who weren’t married. She said many of them she knew from work and while she didn’t know much about their personal lives, she was surprised that they were pregnant but not married. I asked her how she knew they weren’t married. She said it was because they didn’t have wedding rings. This friend was in her 30’s, had two nieces and knew several women with children. I was amazed that I was the first to tell her that pregnant women tend to swell and that, sometimes, their rings no longer fit.

I now fit into the ringless pregnant woman category. Neither my engagement ring nor my wedding band fit on my ring finger - or any other finger for that matter. I have become very self conscious and am now wearing a substitute ring. My friends’ comments haunt me - I don't want anyone to think I am not married.

Wonderful Husband thinks it is hilarious that someone who will ask a stranger, “What the hell are you looking at?” when they glance in her direction now cares if people think she is pregnant and unmarried. I like to think it is because I am proud to be his wife - he likes to think it is my hormones.

Sappy

For all my recent complaining, I recently had an awakening – being pregnant isn’t really that bad. I think my change in attitude stems from being able to feel the Bean on a regular basis. Things feel more real and I am reminded, with every kick and jab, that I have a little person cooking inside of me.

I know in a few months, or days, I will be back to my normal complaining self. Until then…

We have a winner!

On Friday morning Wonderful Husband felt SheBean for the first time. Now, at any moment, I must be prepared for his hand to dart to my stomach “just in case she kicks.” Wonderful Husband is the best.

This weekend took us to a snotty resort town because WH had to give a presentation at a conference. We splurged on a fabulous meal where we hobnobbed with the want-to-be famous but certainly rich. Over lemonades and steak, we decided on a name for the SheBean. We’ll see if it sticks!

I did what???

My mom visited this weekend. It was a nice visit that brought to light some of my fears about becoming a mother.

While my mom was showing me all the cute things she brought for the SheBean, it hit me like a head on collision- I am going to become a mom. I have a little girl growing inside of me who is going to love me and be completely irritated by my every action once she reaches a certain age. She will someday have pig tails and wear cute dresses and then grow up to see my every flaw and feel the need to point them out. I will get under her skin quicker than anyone else in the world – minus, maybe, her mother in law- and she will have an unwavering adoration of her father. (An adoration that he will truly deserve)

I know how hard I was on my mom while we lived together and how hard I continue to be on her. Mother and daughter relationships mystify me and I can not believe my body is now in the process of creating one. I am scared to death of the SheBean.

That being said, there are not words to describe how happy I am to be carrying her for these ten months – no matter my fears or how hard I find pregnancy. She is developing well and appears healthy. There is nothing more I could want in my life.

The Name Game

Now begins the name game. We have said from the beginning of my pregnancy that we are not going to publicize what we plan to name the Bean until her arrival. After witnessing many friends receive unwelcome and rude feedback on the names they were considering, we decided that we wanted to keep our choices to ourselves. It is our kid and our decision.

Of course, those we have made our decision clear to – our parents – began their lobbying campaigns the second they heard we were expected a girl. They forget how stubborn I am and that there are repercussions if you don’t play by the rules.

Sorry, all those names you “subtlety” mentioned yesterday are no longer up for consideration. Thanks for playing.

We are having a girl!

She appears healthy and is very active.

Wonderful husband and I are ecstatic.

I have nothing to share today.
My brain needs the weekend to recoup.

I am not going to lie

People who say pregnancy is a wonderful thing are full of shit.

I am quite aware of how lucky I am to have gotten pregnant and I want this baby very much. Yet, I don’t enjoy being pregnant. Why is that? For starters… the aches and pains, sleepless nights, constant fatigue, throwing up, and body parts that grow to unimaginable sizes.

So, wipe away that shocked look when you ask me if I am “just loving being pregnant” and you don’t get the answer you expect.