No, I am NOT pregnant!
I spent the day at the NCAAN All Day Fall Conference in Walnut Creek where I learned about the latest and greatest in the land of NICU nursing: lawsuits, humidity, ROP, intestinal transplantation, biofilms and VAP…oh my!
Don’t you wish you were there?
Seriously, it was a great conference and I came away with some good stuff to implement in practice and, of course, lots of swag. A nurse can never have too many pens on a rope, highlighters, coffee mugs and flashdisks.
While making my way back to the Central Valley I found myself torn between not missing the god-awful Bay Area commute and missing the thought provoking, ever entertaining talk radio shows. Today’s topic came from an article in Inside Bay Area where Candace Murphy wrote a piece on Pregnancy Faux Pas. Why is it a pregnant woman, or a newborn baby is treated as public domain? And why is it people become, well, stupid around such strange creatures? The host of the show shared his own stories related to infertility, his wife’s pregnancy, his advanced paternal age and his newborn child. He then invited folks to call in and share their own outrageous experiences with shiny, happy, stupid people. The stories kept coming and I imagine his call board was lit up like a ginormous Christmas tree.
Oh yes I wanted to call in so bad because I have a few encounters myself but I restrained myself because I hate driving along the 680/580 corridor and at that hour on a rainy/drizzly Monday afternoon I needed to pay attention to the road rather than use the cell phone. I no longer have KGO Newstalk on my speed dial. So I did the next best thing…
I waited to come home and blog about it!
Babies are a beautiful way to start people and because they are it is understandable that people are naturally drawn to them and to their new parents or parents to be. They make us all feel warm and fuzzy and hopeful. That point is accepted by pretty much most of us. Still why is it they become public domain? Why are folks compelled to come up to a happily gestating woman or new parent and share their horror stories of labor and delivery, sore nipples, sleepless nights, baby poop and, well, just poop? And while I am at it why is it people also don’t leave alone the folks trying to make a baby period? Oh yeah, I wonder about these same people and their comments/questions about adoption too.
My own encounters are typical….
- sweet little old ladies who seem to believe that they have earned the right to touch my belly
- male acquaintances who go out of their way to tell me how sexy they find pregnant women (usually after I have finished puking)
- stroller pushing mamas who practically knock junior over just so they can tell me about their hellacious episiotomy
- my own family who question why two wasn’t enough….the same ones who questioned this also were the proud parents of 4 or more. They also did question why we would adopt too. Go figure!
- speaking of adoption there is always the real versus (I guess) fake parents/child questions and comments. I especially enjoy them being posed with Daniel standing right there…as if he wouldn’t hear them.
- while pregnant with Holly, folks just couldn’t wait to let me know how awful it was that her due date was December 15. How could I be such a cruel, heartless and irresponsible parent to get knocked up with a December due date…um, it took a year to conceive her so we were just grateful to be knocked up!
- folks questioned the 5 year age gap between Holly and Zoë and, can you believe it, they questioned why FOUR girls
- oh yeah some folks had to add that we must have kept on going until we got the boy.
Shiny, happy, silly (and sometimes stupid) people. I know they all meant well. Still sometimes a sweet smile is more than enough.
So now it is your turn. Tell me your own pregnancy/baby related encounters with these gentle, well meaning folks. I’m sure some of you have some wild tales to tell.
I am constantly getting the “You must have your hands full” line from strangers because my boys are so close in age.
I also get a lot of strange people coming up to Evan. They seem to be attracted to him and tell me that he has a special spirit. Maybe they some how sense his heart defect even though it is not visible.
Heh. Well, there was all the times that people would approach me and ask “So when are you due?” when I was mearly fat and TRYING to get pregnant. Add in all the injections for IVF making me all hormonal and… ouch. Why do people have to ask anyway? Hmm?? Of what possible benefit would knowing a total stranger’s due date be?
Then there was the ignorant hick in TN who snapped a group photo of me, husband, son, good friend who is much younger than me, her two kids…he says to me, “Hey Grandma, move in a little closer to your kids, I don’t have everyone in the frame.” He thought *I* was the grandmother, my friend and husband were my kids and all the little ones were my grandchildren. Aaaaaah! I really needed to color my hair bad, I guess.
Grandma! Grrr! As if. I was only 39 at the time.
Of course there is all the extended family constantly asking us when we were going to start a family…when we’d been trying for 3 years.
I did get one moment of glow from a stranger comment. We were on vacation with friends and their baby daughter. The girls went shopping and, at one point, I was watching over the stroller while the baby’s mom stopped into a store for a quick look. A stranger approached and said “Your daughter is so cute! She looks just like you! How old is she?” I was all warm and fuzzy over being mistaken as a mom and I made the error of telling this well meaning stranger the baby’s age. The stranger didn’t believe me and proceeded to argue with me. You see…the baby had a rare genetic disorder which included stunted growth. Not something you explain to strangers. Thankfully my friend came out of the store at that moment and chastized the stranger for being so nosey. Heh.
Still… it was nice be mistaken for a mommy. I wanted to be one so badly. And funnily enough, the baby did look more like me than she did her own mother.
Then there is all the times people have commented on how much my boys look like me. I never bother to correct them.
I get the ‘how old is she’ question alot.
When I tell them how old she is I get a few typical answers
* Oh, she’s just a petite thing isn’t she?
* Is she sickly?
* Are you sure? She looks a lot younger than that, look, she’s not even walking!
* Oh…
* Don’t worry, she’ll catch up
I think I may just tell them ‘what baby? I don’t see a baby…’
I remember when Will was four weeks old and FUSSING a lot when I visited the house of a friend, and her mother was there. On learning that I was nursing, the mother said, “Well, you’ll probably want to supplement, that is why he is crying! Do you want me to go get you some formula?”
Aaaaaaaaghh!
Love having you on WordPress! Welcome (I know I’m late to the party!)