Thought of the Day

For the last few years, I have had a passive yet cranky thought cross my mind every time I hear one specific phrase exit a masculine mouth.

“We’re pregnant.”

My regular thought: those two words should never be placed together in a sentence. Why?

1) A man cannot conceivably (no pun intended) get pregnant despite how many times he’s seen “Twins” with the Governator and Danny DeVito. Don’t believe me? Take Anatomy 101.
2) Though the man may have certainly had part in letting this baby enter the world, he is not carrying a baby plus 25 other pounds of “maternal tissues and fat stores” around in his once-trim body. And finally,
3) He’s not dealing with the pains that come as a result of carrying around the baby (for a small list of those symptoms, refer to my last blog post).

In the recent weeks, I have come to learn that number three is where I am dead wrong. I have realized that my husband gets to, nay, has to carry a bigger brunt of the weight of number three than I do. I may have to deal with the emotional and physical pains, but he has to deal with….me. I don’t think that if I was in his shoes, I would put up with me. I whine, I cry, I write off everything as “I can’t; I’m pregnant”, I’m pushy, I’m mean, I steal his clothes because I can’t fit into mine, I go days without brushing my hair, and I’m an overall unpleasant person to be around. Why would anybody put up with that? Perhaps because he realized something a bit sooner than I did: we’re pregnant.

Epiphany moment: I don’t want to be an “I’m pregnant” woman! How horrible would that be? I don’t think I would be able to make it through this for 30 more weeks if I didn’t convert to the “we’re pregnant” mentality. My husband keeps my head above the water. Even though I am the one who carries the literal weight, he is always there to take any emotional weight off my shoulders in any way he can. He holds my hair back for me when I lose my dinner, he gets me fresh ice water at a moment’s notice, he washes the dishes, he takes care of the dog, he gives me a massage at least once a day, and most importantly, he puts up with all of my whining and nagging with more love than I ever thought imaginable.

I am so grateful for him and for the fact that we’re a “we’re pregnant” couple.