Rant #35

Here is something that my lovely husband had to hear me rant about recently: The one and only book we refer to for pregnancy information has a week to week format that describes the baby’s development and what is going on with me physically for each week. This is week 18 and apparently the baby is five ounces, can hear loud noises, and will experience anxiety if I get stressed out. Now the book didn’t come out and say, “don’t get stressed out or you’ll hurt the baby” but why else is that information relevant? And don’t they know that by simply informing you that you are harming the child if you get stressed out they are going to stress you out? In my experience, if I am even just a little stressed out, the absolute worst thing to say to me is, “relax” or “calm down.” Anyway, for me, this information felt like a last straw of some sort. I mean, it’s not enough that I have given up booze and rare meat, can’t digest dairy (that means no pizza, no ice cream), feel exhausted all the time, have hormonal surges the likes of which I have not felt since I was thirteen, am about ten sizes bigger than I was three months ago, or produce stinkier gas than my dog? In the midst of the most life altering thing I have ever done, I also have to avoid getting stressed out??? What’s next? No reality television? No pools? No wedge heeled shoes? No US Weekly? No pedicures? Do I need to start whipping myself in the morning?

Wisely, B does not answer these questions and tells me I look great.