As I was sipping on my pipe in front of a crackling hearth, overthinking the complex problems of life, my girl came close and poured me some tea. She told me she had written another post for my blog and that she hoped I’d publish it. Naturally, I slapped her across the face, for a woman should not speak unless spoken to. But, as I returned to my pipe sipping and complex thinking, I surmised that even for a woman, at select times, self-expression has beneficial effects.
… I kid, I kid! Except for the new miss Alf post, whom we’ll call Mai from now on. It is quite a special post, and she has quite the news to share, news which I was not sure when or how to share, but I think this is as good a time as any. Take it away Mai…
pregnancy, motherhood and socks
I guess it has been half a year since my last blog, and a lot has changed. First things first, I am pregnant. I hate saying that, but I love being it. It sounds like you have some kind of illness. I think there’s such a negative connotation around pregnancy. People act like if your good life will come to an end and will have to make place for a restrained life with sleepless nights because you cannot even poo without a slamming child on the bathroom door. They say you have to do everything before you have children, like travelling the world and having a career.
When I wander the internet, all articles about pregnancy I come across are most of the time negative and the comments are always the same: ‘Why fuck up your body if you can have cats.’ Those commenters actually believe that a delivery is a case of living and dying and your body will forever be like a deadly, incontinent car accident. They literally compare children to dirt and vermin and will get very angry if a loving mom comments something like: ‘A delivery is not that bad, I love my children even though they can be a burden’. I am not even exaggerating. However, I feel great both physically and mentally (despite the hormonal stuff). I still work-out, my boobs are amazing and I’m fat, but the pretty kind of fat.
I think it’s the beginning of a new chapter, and I want nothing more for my baby to be proud of me. My business is developing, however not yet booming, but it will be by time (my boyfriend says so, and he says he is always right and I can’t disagree because he ís annoyingly often right). At first I found it very hard, but lately I am realizing that I have to persevere to make my business a success for my new family. I want to be successful for them, and that needs a successfully and happy me.
You do not fill a void by having a child, you do not start a new awful life by having a child: I believe it’s just natural. It’s just life. You love somebody, you want to spend the rest of your life with him/her, and you want to have babies. There’s a reason why most women want to have babies, because they are made to have babies.
Women have periods. Women have a womb. Womb grows baby.
Women have boobs. Boobs produce milk. Babies love milk.
And it’s not like women only are baby-factories, it’s because it’s fucking beautiful.
I’m not saying being pregnant and having children is all about feeling like you’re on that last tiny bit of ecstasy and like you are exploding of love, but it really sometimes does.
It’s not like I never argue with my boyfriend anymore. I mean, his socks still lie on the ground through the whole house like he’s expecting them to magically disappear in the laundry basket. I’m also not saying it’s not going to be hard and that I am not scared at all. Of course it’s going to be hard. Of course we will have fights and sleepless nights. But what does it matter? I love my boyfriend everyday a bit more and I can’t wait to see him as a daddy to our boy.