I recently ran across a blog called Design Mom. She is a mom of 5 with a 6th baby on the way. She ran a series on her blog asking others for their thoughts on pregnancy. It was beautiful and funny and made me cry a lot. Here are some especially great excerpts.
Most books have it all wrong.
Enduring pregnancy isn’t a matter of getting enough sleep, sucking on ginger candies, or kegel marathons.
Really, it all comes down to storing up a repetoire of snappy comebacks to stupid questions.
Mostly the ones I received were about my size — I was too small, too big, way too big, and should I really be eating so many chocolate chip pancakes?
In Gabby’s case, no doubt it will be about the size of her beautiful family. And while she’s far too gracious to use any of these, I would have some stock answers ready to go. Just in case.
-Yes we planned it. It seemed a shame for that last seat in the minivan to go to waste.
-Yes we planned it. I hear we get a free toaster with every sixth baby.
-Yes we planned it. Now only 12 more to go!
Wear a bathing suit whenever possible. Seriously. Wear it around the house. Wear it to church. Whatever. I mean, you're probably hot (temperature wise) anyway, especially as you get further along, so it helps with that. And, also, you're totally looking hot (smokin' hot wise) because a.) you're glowing, everyone is telling you this and b.) your giant stomach makes your backside look smaller. Think about it. You've really never looked better, so wear that tankini to Target. Trust me on this one.
Enter as many strength competitions as possible. Now's your time. Because you're not just a giant person, you're two giant people. And two giant people can kick one giant person's arse (is it okay to say arse on here?) every time. You will win every wrestling match you enter. I guarantee it. Because besides your gargantuan-ness, no one wants to say they beat the pregnant chick. Bad form. They'll totally make you feel like you won. And really, you have.
I'll soon be 77 and I find myself wondering how I could ever have complained about the joy and thrill of having a new baby. Of course I remember the queasiness, the awkwardness, the ordered bed-rest, etc. But mostly I am consumed with wonder and gratitude and nostalgia for the soft, helpless, beautiful babies that came through me.
I marvel how I treasure the memory and the joy of holding and nursing a new-born babe. Thinking now as a great-grandma, about the responsibility and trust placed on us naive, new and young parents, I stand all amazed! The miracle through it all is love, love, love along with faith and trust and knowing that we follow long lines of mothers, mothers, mothers! Families! Families! Families!