BabyMama & The Bébé Q's

As the bébé q's rolled in, I started answering questions in bulk over on the Gram. There were a few bigger questions though that I couldn't quite fit my ramblings into a caption for. So, pairing them together on here.

Besides the disclaimer I gave in my last post, I want to make it absolutely clear that the responses below are solely my opinion* and if yours is different THAT IS REALLY FINE. It's hard enough figuring out how to make this major life shift into parenthood without all the added pressure of everyone else's beliefs weighing in. Zero judgements from me if you're approaching (or have approached) your own pregnancy differently, or if you disagree with my comments below. I respect that we're all doing our best, and that everyone's journey can look VERY different, even if there are tons of overlapping factors. I'm not trying to vex anyone - you keep doing you.

Bébé Q: "Was it planned?"

This is sometimes paired with the other frequent semi-Q of "I thought you didn't plan on having kids...?" If you've known me for some time, this set of Q's doesn't come without warrant. I have always been quite vocal about my feelings. To avoid ranting, here's a short punch list:

• one does not NEED children to have a complete family; family can mean a lot of different things
• if I personally never had children, I could still live a very fulfilling and happy life; it's totally fine to be childfree
• having and raising children is a huge responsibility, not to be entered lightly; I couldn't personally hack it as a single mom and would want a very strong partner to parent with

I'm sorry to say this: but being a mom has never been on my bucket list. The maternal urge, the need to nurture, just came in other forms than baby-making. Yes, this feels really shitty to say, since I know there are many women who want nothing more than to be a biological mother, and men who want nothing more than to be fathers, but, it's just the truth. If you'd have asked me about wanting kids in my twenties, I'd have probably straight up laughed in your face. 

I prioritized my education, my career, traveling, and developing who I was as a person. Finding a good partner, settling down, and birthing babies? Not on the radar. And the partners I did find? Well, I was likewise pretty truthful with them that if a baby is what they wanted, I was NOT their gal. They were nice guys, but I knew they were not men for the long haul. And that was fine. It just was what it was. I was still very happy and content with life. 

And at one point, I got lucky. I stumbled into the right partner, and we spent years adventuring and settling into a new life together. We decided to live together. We decided to get hitched. We decided to invest in a house - one that was big enough in case we decided to add to our family. And likewise, together we decided, yeah, let's have a baby. 

Having witnessed the fertility struggles of so many loved ones, we approached it in a fairly straightforward manner: we'd try, and if we found we weren't able to have kids, then we would be content as is. If kids weren't in the cards, we'd sell the big house and buy a condo downtown. If it worked out, we'd already have a big house, ready to nest into. No IVF, no adoption, no other paths, should things not work out. We'd see how things went. 

As a woman "of a certain age," who has always had the thought in the back of my mind that maybe I wouldn't physically be able to have kids, I would not say I went into this optimistically. I was a realist. My hopes were not high. I followed the advice of my OB/GYN and went off my pills for a couple months before we started "actively trying," so I could learn what my actual cycle looks like (because I've been on a pill-driven cycle for the past 15 years), and loosely tracked my "fertility window" with a pencil on my little desk calendar. And again, I got lucky. And here we are, a few short weeks away from bébé's arrival.

It is not a "whoopsie" baby. It is not a "pandemic baby."** This baby being consciously brought into this world by loving parents, who are confident in each other, who are comfortable with where they are at in life, and who... want to have someone to care for them when they are the old people in the post-apocalyptic hellscape. You know, typical stuff.

Bébé Q: "Is it a boy or a girl?"

Why does it matter?*** Why are my baby's reproductive organs SO important to everyone? Can't they just be a baby and not immediately defined by their gender? Aren't they going to spend the rest of their life being forced to deal with the gender norms and stereotypes of the world? While they're in the womb, can't we just let them be? Do we HAVE to stuff them into a blue or pink box straight out of the womb? Am I less of a mother for buying clothes that are gender-neutral OR just come in a variety of colors? Can't they have dinosaurs and sparkles? 

If you want to / did a gender reveal and want to scream from the rooftops that you've got a baby boy or baby girl arriving on xyz date - do you. (But like, don't shoot off anything that starts a forest fire, please.) It is just not my thing. I just want them to be born healthy and happy and whatever gender they are, we will raise them to be curious, independent, and kind. Period. 

When people ask this question, the easiest answer has been, "We're keeping it a surprise" or "We don't know." Those answers don't piss people off. When they find out that WE know, but are choosing not to tell THEM, that is when people tend to get weirdly aggressive and mad. Like, we are wronging them somehow by not divulging. It's... kind of exhausting. I can even give valid reasons like "Hey, if we decide to have more kids, and they're a different gender, this way we don't have to get all new stuff, we can just reuse what we had - think of the money/time/waste savings!" but, it's still a personal slight somehow. People are still upset they can't buy you all pink or blue things.

And yeah, I know I'm getting a lot of eye rolls and "there goes Gina on her soap box again" - but if you're willing to get legit angry at someone for them not telling you their baby's gender? Or if you have spent the past eight months trying to "trick" one of us into telling you? I mean, go reevaluate and chill. Because, you're just adding unnecessary drama to a pile of legit worries new parents have on their plate. And honestly, if the baby's genitals matter that much to you, you'll find out soon enough, won't you?

Bébé Q: "How has it been being sober?"

Another question largely asked by people who have known me longer lol -- If you told me in my early twenties to be sober for nine months, I would have probably reallllly struggled based on my lifestyle at the time. I hate to give any good credit to this awful pandemic, but I'll say it's a big factor in why sobriety hasn't phased me. 

First off, our pandemic social calendar doesn't look like it used to. No happy-hours with coworkers. No attending festivals or concerts every weekend. Infrequent eating out at restaurants. And just an overall decline in events where we'd normally find a cocktail in hand. So, while I've never had a problem being the gal with a Coke at a boozy event, it's been way less of a thing because those events just aren't happening.

The other side of this: I haven't been drinking at home during all this. Because I know myself, and I know what a slippery slope that could have been. My younger self, and my family, have a sorted history with alcohol. So when the world shut down and everything went to hell, I was very conscious of the fact that a cocktail might make the situation feel less stressful - but could become a heavy crutch for balancing out my anxiety. I did not want to go down that path, so I mostly just avoided drinking entirely. By the time I found out I was pregnant, not drinking was already a part of my routine, so it didn't seem like as big of a deal. Which was really nice. Though, I definitely miss my brandy-old fashioneds. I look forward to welcoming that old friend back into my life. 

Bébé Q: "Are you planning on having more kids?"

Sigh, y'all know how I feel about the constant "what's next?" questions... that said, we'll see how it goes. In my mind's eye, we'd have two total. No more. Having grown up with a sibling, I see the value in having that person (for better or worse) to share the journey with, so I'd say we're not "planning" for an only child. BUT there are so so many factors at play here. Maybe I'll have an absolutely horrible labor (knock on wood) and/or not physically be able to have more. Maybe we'll find out that we're just totally overwhelmed by parenthood (knock on woooood) and we don't want any more. Maybe we'll try and just run out of time on the biological clock somehow. Who knows? In terms of "planning" I've really learned that... you just can't. The best laid plans of mice and men, y'all. 

Bébé Q: "Are you scared?"

As all hell. But with 15 days til D-Date, we're sort of at the point of no return. To quote Home Alone: "This is it. Don't get scared now." 

Fab bump credit to McKenna Marie Photography
https://www.mckennamariephoto.com/

*Even my husband and I aren't 100% aligned on things around this pregnancy/birth. We're maneuvering to find what middle ground we as a couple, and as parents, are comfortable with. But we are two separate individuals who form and defend our own viewpoints. That's just part of a relationship - working out how to be a united front as two unique persons. 

** Sorry, but I REALLY fucking hate how often people give a wink wink nudge nudge and say "oooh pandemic baby, cuz y'all were bored, right??" UM, did you live in a VERY different 2020 than I did? Because there was nothing sexy about 2020, and 2021 is on its heels for a very unattractive year to live in. Watching the news in horror every day, being separated from loved ones, and constantly afraid of losing someone you care about to an overwhelming global pestilence? Yeah, sorry, that's not really something that puts me "in the mood." Being isolated with my spouse in a tiny space, not going outside for days on end, while a psycho wave of conspiracy theorists try to destroy my sanity? Doesn't exactly get me all "hot and bothered." When my anxiety is through the roof and I'm worried about a potential food shortage while slathered in hand sanitizer? No, my first thought was not, "I'm bored, let's bang." And I also did NOT decide to BRING A PERSON INTO THIS WORLD just out of sheer boredom. Fuck off.  

***Also, I know I'll get a bunch of people upset because they will think I am personally mad at them for even asking this question. I'm absolutely not. It's a very straightforward and easy-to-ask question when you hear someone is having a baby. You ABSOLUTELY should feel free to ask. Just don't be pissy if the parents-to-be don't give you the answer you "want" to hear. That's literally it. 

BabyMama: I'd Like to Stay a Little Longer

Here we are, a four month hiatus since the last post. As ever, that comes with a lot of reasons (or excuses?), so let's jump right in.

Baby Talk is Difficult

While I've been actively posting about this pregnancy on the temporary space of Gram Stories, I've been light on the blog, FB, posts, etc. Because every. single. time. I go to put something up, I think about all the couples in my life who have a checkered past with fertility. Friends and family who have lost little ones before they could even hold them in their arms. Parents who went through the unthinkable moment of losing a child. Genuinely good people who have struggled down every road, chasing after the baby from their dreams. And I know that almost all those people, despite their tumultuous relationship with the reproductive cycle, want to celebrate and be happy for others - but that doesn't mean I don't feel like I'm still punching them in the gut with every bump pic. 

And those that are in a more difficult place, sometimes they just can't feel supportive, because their personal hurt is too great. That's where it gets into the "how dare you complain about a stretch mark or the pending nightmare of pushing a watermelon out your snatch, at least you're pregnant." As if your right to feel anything is negated by the fact that you should be so lucky to even be in the position you're in. There's an underlying judgment from those in pain - justifiable or not. But it does make me feel like, who am I to say something negative about this "miraculous" journey. I got pregnant when others are struggling; so just count those blessings and shush up.* 

Then comes the other element: I do not know what I'm talking about. This IS my first rodeo. And any time I say anything baby related at all, there is a barrage of well-meaning advice. Of people wanting to share their experiences. Sometimes just to connect, and sometimes to try and guide me in a different direction because they think I'm screwing it up. The latter sometimes makes me think, just don't say anything. It's easier.

All of the above is of course, in my head. And it shouldn't have stopped me from sharing, documenting, and just working through all this via words. But, it kinda did. And that's just how it went.

It's Not the Shiny Stuff

Most of what I want to hash out... it's kinda dark? Or at least, not so bubbly? Like, the mind-fuck of creating and carrying a human life inside your body and being solely responsible for its wellbeing for NINE months. Like, all the horrifying and strange things your hormones and body go through, the things other mothers don't seem to want to talk to you about until AFTER you're pregnant - at which point there is a flood of horror stories and things that can go awry that you're just suddenly treated to hearing about as you start to experience them (third tri carpal tunnel anyone??). Like, how your life and relationship to others in the world is literally never going to be the same, and it's always difficult to lament a loss of identity, but even more so when everyone keeps telling you it's the bee's knees and you're like "but so was my old life." 

This all jumps back to the "just glow, don't bitch" note above. But also, it's hard to talk through some of these difficult items without having a "yeah but look at this cute onesie" response. And I get that response, because if you think too hard on some of this, it's easy to spiral a bit. And that onesie is absolutely adorable. Not processing at all isn't the answer, though, but I'm not sure where the balance is. 

Which leads me to what I actually wanted to talk about... 

With all that in mind, the biggest thing that's been weighing on me is one of those things that people just don't say out loud. It's an unspeakable. I'm going to rabble about it a bit and I do NOT want a bunch of "reassurance" or "it'll be fine" messages after. That's not why I'm bringing it up. Despite my current hormone situation, I am a rational, intelligent woman, in possession of all the statistics in the world around this topic. I'm fully aware of the massive amount of privilege I have going into this, as a young-ish white woman in a good socio-economic situation; with access to all the proper facilities, doctors, and knowledge; in good health; with an awesome support system; etc. But, it's in my mind and it's not going away.

...

I will never forget a phone call I go in my early twenties, from my first close friend to have a baby. Friends had barely started getting married, let alone having babies, so this was totally new territory. And her biggest worry wasn't about being a mother, or even about the process of physically having a baby. She was worried about surviving the labor itself. That her husband would be left alone with their new baby, and she wouldn't be there. That this future they were building towards wouldn't include her. 

It was something I had literally never even considered. That sort of thing didn't happen in real life, it just happened offscreen to the moms in Disney movies. It couldn't happen, because all we ever talked about was the miracle of birth and yay baby, not the fact that the mother is going through a major physical trauma to bring that life into the world. 

But her fear was real. It wasn't invalid. Because it does happen. 

So here I am, with less than a month til my due date, "panic nesting" as I call it. Trying frantically to get everything organized, labelled, and ready. Walking through annoying details with my husband so he knows where things are, how to find everything. Attempting to get everything perfect, even if it's not stuff we'll "need right away." And when people try to talk to me about those early days with a newborn, and I hear the forever loop of "sleep when the baby sleeps," and advice about sleep training... most of it just bounces into a wall in my mind and falls into a box for later. Because there is definitely a wall there. The labor. The birth. And the underlying uncertainty that maybe... that's the end of the line.** Maybe all these preparations are what I'm leaving behind for my loved ones, to make sure things go smoothly if I'm not able to be there to help later. 

It's kind of an achy, awful feeling. I could write about it and explore it at great length, but I know it's a super uncomfortable thought, and I'm not sure the emo/philosophical path I'd go down would be helpful for anyone, so I'm not fully going to dive in on here...

And again, I know it is not a likelihood. I understand the odds. I get that I'm probably more likely to walk out and get hit by a car. That all doesn't matter. What matters is that... well, I'd like to stay a little longer, but I know it won't be entirely in my control. Being pregnant, you quickly figure out just how much is no longer in your control, and you sort of accept it, and figure out how to move forward with that awareness. So, I don't let this thought overwhelm me, and constantly weigh me down, but I carry it along with the other uncertainties and wonder how things will all play out. 

I sure hope that within the next month, we'll be at the point just past this. And I'll be on the 'good' side of those statistics. Settling into that 'new parents' phase that I haven't properly put thought towards yet. Where I'll be able to look down at that wee little life we created and say, "Hey, we made it. Now let's go figure this future out together." Because it's a future I'd really like to be a part of. 

<3

We've got this, wee bump.

*Granted, not everyone is happy to be pregnant - there are MANY complex situations, but in our case we're not unhappy about it. Also, I'm not diving into the other side of this - that some people realllllly could give a hoot about kids/babies. Which I absolutely understand, having lived a very happy childless life up to this point. It can also be frustrating to see a constant celebration around "traditional" life events like weddings and babies, when that is absolutely NOT the path many take. And it's annoying to not see other big successes (like, getting a promotion at work, or moving to a new city, or having a beautiful plant that you've kept alive through the winter, or finally finishing that binge of "Grey's Anatomy," etc.) being celebrated in the same way, because they truly are important. But, I could rant all day about that, and, my posts are already too damn long lol so just... know that I know what I'm not shining a light on and I'm sorry.

** Also, YES, I know how absolutely selfish this all sounds. Most moms are just worried about having a healthy baby, and I'm over here worrying about myself. But. I was here first. I know me. Wee bebe, I'm still getting to know. So yes, I'm selfish and I'm concerned about myself. I'm not saying I'm not also VERY much concerned about the wellness of this little one who I'm carrying. People are complex and can feel more than one thing, y'all - so let's not get judgey.