So I’m pregnant, and it was a, er, um, pleasant surprise. Primarily because I’ve never been that woman to fantasize about baby rompers, changing diapers, baby spit, delivering a melon-sized object out your vagina, and all the other thralls of motherhood, but I’m pregnant, and I will have to deal. As a matter of fact, I AM dealing.
Not only am I dealing, but I’m actually excited. Before becoming pregnant I was terrified of having a baby, but my midwife, Jennie Joseph is so empowering and so awesome. She and my mama have assured me that I WILL have this baby and I WILL be fine. After all, women have been doing pregnancy thing for centuries and ish.
Anywho, part of my reluctance about being a parent is dreading transforming into one of those parents we all love to hate. You know those parents who think everyone loves their baby as much as the love them. They always want to show you pictures and videos of their kids whether you asked or not or whether you show interest in their little person’s life or not. These are the types of parents you see who never believe their kid is capable of any wrong, always bragging about what cool things they think their kid is doing, or feigning interest in your kid’s life to only overshadow your kid’s averageness with their kid’s amazing internship with NASA.
But I have a confession…. I’m already acting like one of those annoying parents I loved to laugh about as a former childless person. I had to sit back and reflect…is the transformation complete or not?
At my first ultrasound, I came up with grandiose explanations about why my pear-sized baby was so much better than other pear-sized babies. I kept saying ‘Wow!’ and ‘Look at that!’ every time my baby moved…OUT LOUD. My loud verbal affirmations wouldn’t be so bad if my baby was doing something different than any other pear-sized ultrasound baby because we all know every ultrasound pic basically looks the same. But the issue is, in my mind, my baby is not your average pear-sized baby, my baby is a SPECTACULAR pear-sized baby because genes.
For example, her legs were crossed and she kept moving around so the technician couldn’t determine her sex until the very end. In my mind, her
stubborness or refusal to cooperate or free-spiritness coyness meant she’s such a lady…a ‘future lady in the streets, but freak in the streets’ who knows how to play the game to make admirers eat out of the palm of her hand. However, after googling ultrasounds to learn more about ultrasounds (because curiosity), I read lots of testimonials about other babies who had their legs crossed during ultrasounds. Unfortunately, they don’t have AWESOME pear-sized fetuses like mine. Sorry, not sorry.
I’m such a dramatic pregnant lady. Anytime I’m eating, I’m especially certain to stuff my face because not only am I eating for two, but I’m eating for the next Redeemer of the World. Yes, the next world-famous revolutionary, and she needs all the nutrients she can have. She’s going to need it redeeming the whole world.
I listen to lots of salsa music. Yeah, we all know listening to classical is important, but by listening to Spanish music my baby is going to come out of the womb speaking Spanish. Along with Spanish music, I listen to lots of house, blues, Motown, basically anything because my child is going to be an artistic protege along as the Redeemer of the world.
Not only the music, but I’m always having one-sided conversations with my INTELLIGENT pear-sized fetus. I crack jokes with my baby to develop her sense of humor, tell her how beautiful she is to help with her self-esteem, and explain to her how crazy this world is but she is going to overcome. She responds with kicks. We get each other.
These are only three self-aware examples I have, but I must say, while the transformation isn’t complete, I’m definitely on my to becoming one of those parents we all love to hate.
And I am not ashamed because my pear-sized baby is GREATNESS in the making. I’m so grateful and don’t take if for granted that my baby girl is healthy thus far, and I want to go ahead and apologize in advance for when the transformation into one of those parents is complete.
You’ve been warned.
Thanks for reading ;)!
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