I have seen things! Things that can never be unseen.
There were many things I dreaded about being pregnant and, to be honest, none of them were as bad as I imagined (I do have a very vivid imagination!), with one exception.
“Do I really have to?” I whined.
“I have to do it as well,” Himself replied. Then he saw my face. “I guess I shouldn’t complain, should I?”
“Not unless the word ‘alimony’ means anything to you.”
“You can always close your eyes,” he suggested.
Could have. Should have. Would have. But once I peeked, that was it; there was no going back and I stared, transfixed in horror.
“So, what did you all think?” asked the leader of the antenatal class as she turned off the video of the childbirth. The comments ranged from “I’m nervous” to “That was beautiful.”
“Nobody asked me what I thought,” I complained afterwards to Himself.
“That’s because we didn’t need to. You made your views perfectly clear without saying a word!”
Now, I’m not immune to the miracles of nature; I just don’t particularly like nature to have such an up-close-and-personal encounter with my nether regions. I turned then to my source of constant support and guidance.
“What sort of delivery do you think I should have?” I asked Himself.
“Well, they say the recovery from natural birth is much easier…”
“Excuse me?! Did you see that video?! Did that look easier?!” I shrieked.
“But the actual procedure of C-section will be quicker, and you can plan it.“
“This is the birth of our child! It’s not about the time or convenience!”
“There is literally nothing I can say right now that will be correct, is there?” Himself was resigned.
“Are you refusing to help me?!”
“Of course I’m here for you! But it’s your body. I can’t have an opinion; only you can choose what’s right for you.”
“Damn. That’s the most useless answer, and I can’t argue with it.”
To give Himself credit, his sigh of relief was almost inaudible.
“Although,” he mused, and I perked up, ready to argue again, “I do think you should have painkillers for the delivery.”
“Ya think?! Honey, I wouldn’t have a tooth extracted without painkillers much less an actual human being!”
After all that, Slytherin Baby has made up her mind without consulting me, as is her wont. She is not moving.
“Is that so bad?” I asked; after all, I’ve been feeling like I could do with a little bit more time before I become responsible for keeping a human being alive.
“It doesn’t work like that,” my doctor assured me.
And so the decision had been made – we were going to have to take a stand and show Slytherin Baby who was boss. Naturally, this made me nervous, not so much the decision itself, but more the doubt of any course of action where we could show Slytherin Baby who was boss.
Ironically it would appear Himself was the only one without an opinion about this.
“Now, I’m not immune to the miracles of nature; I just don’t particularly like nature to have such an up-close-and-personal encounter with my nether regions.”
“This is what got Macbeth into so much trouble,” I grumbled to Himself after the tenth person felt the need to provide me with a detailed account of the horrors that were in store for me and commiserated on my unfortunate birth choice.
“I thought he was beheaded,” replied Himself, looking well pleased to finally use a useless piece of trivia from high-school English.
“He was promised by the three witches that he could not be defeated by anyone ‘born of women’. Unfortunately for him, Macduff was ‘untimely ripped from his mother’s womb’”
“Macduff was born by C-section; therefore, he wasn’t technically ‘born’. So, he was able to defeat and behead Macbeth.”
“That’s a cop-out. That still counts as ‘being born’.”
“You’d think,” I muttered darkly. “But 500 years later and I promise you, all these members of mothers’ groups would make the same mistake Macbeth did!!”
After all the dramatic build-up, Slytherin Baby was born with remarkably little fuss. And I have no doubt she will one day be able to defeat any tyrant she wants to.
Amy Lalouette lives with Himself (her very patient husband) and Slytherin Baby. By day she’s an English teacher and by night she reads, writes, holds murder mystery parties and does belly dancing. Unfortunately, all this interferes with her lifelong ambition to have a spotless house and an empty laundry basket! She records her experiences (and confusion) of pregnancy and being a first-time parent on her personal blog “Mommy’s Off her Meds”.