Pregnancy 101: Lessons From the Finish Line

Oh, pregnancy. It is the thinnest of times (ref. first trimester morning sickness), it is the heaviest of times, it is the age of excitement, it is the age of complaints, it is the epoch of cute kicks and Jacadi gifts, it is epoch of farts and hemorrhoids, it is the season of anticipation, it is the season of endless waiting. In my case, it has also been the season of amassing information and making simplistic generalization, which, at week 39.5 of this glorious endeavor, I am finally ready to share with you guys.

1. You will be scared silly. 

The job of fancy private OBGYNs, other than delivering your baby, is to test you for every single condition under the sun, measure your baby at every geometric angle, and discover a few minor discrepancies from the so-called “norm” that will have you perusing forum boards late into the night. While it’s hard to stop yourself from freaking out, just remember that almost every pregnancy has some sort of minor complication, most of which are revealed only due to our overly meticulous western pregnancy monitoring practices. In the words of my mother while listening to my woes about percentiles, “Back in the day in Russia, they didn’t measure any of this stuff, and everyone turned out okay.”

P.S. The fancier the clinic, the more tests they will perform, and the more terrified you will be. Basic math. 

2. You will need new clothes. 

Do yourself a favor and don’t be like me — don’t decide you are too cool for maternity wear and will easily get by in oversized shirts and leggings. Sure, that strategy may work for the first two trimesters, but I promise you that by month 8, none of your “oversized” clothes will fit. Hell, unless you’re with the Rock, none of your partner’s oversized clothes will fit. And then, one day, you will find yourself standing by your closet sobbing, because the only options you will have to leave the house in will be “sized up” $22 leggings from Amazon that smell like cat litter and your Eberjey pajama pants. There are plenty of cute and comfortable maternity clothes out there — take advantage. Love thyself. Buy thyself maternity clothes. 

3. You will become public property. 

I assumed I would be spared this bizarre phenomenon, global pandemic and all, but, alas, old habits die hard. People love touching pregnant people (grown men at parties included), they love making inappropriate comments (“You’re PREGNANT, mama!”, a man on Santa Monica Boulevard informed me) and they LOVE offering unsolicited advice. “Have you picked out a name? Oh that name… Do you want to know my real opinion on that name, even though I have nothing to do with your baby and will probably never see her in my life?” “Oh, you’re buying a bassinet? Let me tell you all the reasons we didn’t use one 20 years ago when my wife gave birth, which undoubtedly makes me an expert on all things baby.” Here is my unsolicited advice: listen, smile, disregard immediately. 

4. Your body will rebel against you. 

Nausea. Farting. Burping. Constipation. Bladder control issues. A wayward hemorrhoid or two (or, as my doctor calls them, “the gifts children give us”). All the things that we, as women, have been societally conditioned to keep under wraps are now beyond our control and out for the world to see, hear, and smell. Throw in a pair of marshmallow feet and a moon face that brings you right back to your awkward teenage-fat stage, and it is the most uncomfortable-slash-demeaning experience one can go through. I don’t care how many sexy-carefree-butt-naked-sex-goddess pregnancy photos Emily Ratajkowski posts. She’s still in the cute stage. Talk to me in two months, girl. 

5. Your emotions will go haywire.

There were a few months during my pregnancy when my fiancé (fiancé!) and I argued a lot, and, each time we would argue, I would cry. I’m not talking about a solitary tear running down my face in a strategic effort to evoke compassion. I’m referring to a combination of wailing, sobbing and hiccuping that would be deemed far more suitable for a moment of personal tragedy, but, in my case, was wasted on run-of-the-mill household disputes. As a result, I am no longer the girl who cried wolf. I am the girl who cried dirty dishes, unvacuumed floors, and loose socks on the floor, and whose tears will never be taken seriously again. 

6. You will test your relationship.

This one should come as no surprise, given #4 and #5. Now, don’t get me wrong — I fully believe that men should kiss the ground our swollen feet waddle on, for they will never have the experience of having their key organs displaced by an alien invader for ten months straight. However, let’s play devil’s advocate and envision your cute girlfriend slowly becoming a farting, hormonal monster who moans each time she changes sleeping positions and needs to be fork-lifted from the couch every night. Loving her may take a bit more effort, which makes pregnancy the ultimate relationship test. (And I’m not even at the adult diaper stage yet.) 

All that being said, I must mention something I have been thinking about since my body got hijacked by my little alien and I became intimately familiar with every garbage can in Chelsea. Every woman who goes thorough pregnancy without a partner, whether by chance or by choice, is a superhero. Forget Luke Skywalker and Spiderman and Anthony Fauci and whoever else you deemed to be a superior being in the past. Single mothers are bionic species who are equipped to rule countries and Fortune 500 companies and put every man to shame with their mere existence. 

Oh, the same goes for twin / triplet / quadruplet carriers. Are the latter even real?

Now, your turn. What has pregnancy taught YOU? (Or, which one of these is the most enticing?) Let’s compare notes.