Seeing as how I am now a third-time veteran of the miracle known as pregnancy, I would like to hand down some of my hard-earned wisdom. There are plenty of positive and constructive resources for pregnancy advice available to first time moms, so I’m not even going to go there. No, I’d like to share with you some of the less popular, not-at-all-miraculous, reasons I’m convinced pregnancy had to be invented by a man.
Let’s face it, pregnancy is not pretty: it doesn’t make you glow (unless you count the cold sweats), it isn’t a divine experience, and quite frankly it doesn’t make any sense. Sure, women have the amazing ability to create life from a single cell and grow an entire human being within their own body, and expel said human in an almost functional metamorphic process. But is it really necessary to mess with us during the entire nine months leading up to the extremely harrowing and painful birth as well? In addition to the usual list of aches, pains, leaking fluids, stretch marks and hormone fluctuations, pregnancy also comes with a long list of contradictions, incompatibilities, and tragic design flaws.
I’m thinking we need to go back to the drawing board with the whole process, and work on answering some of these important questions:
Why is it necessary that pregnant women be gifted with both a super-sensitive sense of smell and supercharged gas at the same time? Surely one or the other of these powers is enough for the newest super hero: Wonder Womb.
If you’re not supposed to gain 50 pounds with your pregnancy, why is it that the only time the nausea eases up is when you’re eating? Until they invent some sort of delicious snack food that I can eat constantly and not gain weight, I call bullsh*t on this one.
Why would a process that makes you exhausted beyond anything you’ve ever experienced before also require you to get out of bed every three hours to pee? And don’t tell me that it’s practice for having a newborn. No one needs to practice not sleeping. It comes naturally when you have an 8-pound creature screaming in your ear half the night.
Why do the same hormones that inexplicably draw you to chick flicks and sappy tv shows also cause you to blubber unattractively at beer commercials? Last night I bawled my eyes out watching a random episode of Buffy The Vampire Slayer and an AT&T commercial. I’m not sure which one hit me harder.
Why do women suddenly feel overwhelmingly amorous right around the time their stomachs get so big that they impede most sexual activities? Not to mention the floppy, painful boobs and constipation. Nothing says sexy like a backed up colon.
Why does the same process that causes urinary incontinence (especially in subsequent pregnancies) also cause frequent and sudden vomiting? You think the sneeze-pee is bad when you’re pregnant? Try dry heaving a few times. Unnecessarily messy.
The more I think about it the more I’m convinced that pregnancy is simply the wrong strategy for bringing children into the world.
I’d like to propose a change in technique. I’m leaning toward either laying eggs or mitosis. I’m thinking it would probably hurt less to just split in half and replicate that way. To be honest, I feel like I’m splitting in half at the vagina during the last half of my pregnancy anyway. Mitosis would be quicker. Or maybe we could grow an external pouch like a kangaroo, that way when we’re tired of carrying them around we can just kick them out for a few minutes.
So many possibilities for better, more efficient ways of passing down our genetic codes and we end up with nine months of puking, farting, back aches, fevers, getting kicked in the rib cage, and 24 hours of excruciating pain and probably a few stitches in the crotch as a parting gift. The joke is definitely on us.