The Trouble With... (Pt. 1)

It’s an awkward thing, really. Being pregnant and giving birth are just awkward. Let’s just begin with a few simple things. For one thing, a lot (and I’m not even making that number up) of people who absolutely DO NOT want to have children, find themselves pregnant.

There are many more people who would do anything (and do) to have children and simply cannot get the job done. Then there are those relatively few people who don’t care one way or the other and never worry about it. Neither of these last two groups of people are whom I am talking about. I am talking about the people who ‘swear on a stack of Bibles’ that they will never have kids. They assure their parents (who secretly hope for grandchildren, someday) that they will go to great lengths to make sure they do not have that kind of responsibility or baggage. There’s just no way they will have offspring. Plus, they know if they were a bad kid, their mother has already cursed them!

“When you grow up, I hope you have kids just like you!” Or, more likely worse than you! Who wants that?! They promise themselves, it won’t happen. This extraordinary group of individuals produces at least one child by the time they are twenty. Oh, the irony!

Many of them discover this troubling news when they are very young and in no way capable of making informed decisions because emotions, all too often, get in the way. That is not a judgment on whatever decision is made. It is merely an observation of the emotional state of mind of young people. Young people are still trying to figure out the hormonal imbalance brought on by a menstrual cycle. Couple that with the emotional roller coaster that pregnancy thrusts upon an unsuspecting new mother-to -be and you will find that not all decisions were made with a great deal of logical forethought. Pregnancy is emotional hell. You eat for two. You eat too much. Or you may be too sick to care for the first month or so. You cry over commercials, but laugh at the news.

“Did he just say, ‘Sex and your unborn child, tonight at 5!’?” Yes, he really said that. It’s alright. I understand if you want to take a minute to let that sink in. The images alone are almost cartoonish in my head.

Labor is hard work. I suppose that’s why it’s called ‘labor.’ Perhaps you think an 8 or 12-hour work day is tedious. Maybe you have to work double and stay at work for 16 hours. Ask a woman who has had to go through 18 hours or more of hard labor if she sympathizes. ‘You poor thing, I’m sorry you had such a rough day. Perhaps you would feel better if you carried this watermelon between your pelvic bones for a few months and then tried to shit it out.’ Yes, I’m sure that would brighten your disposition.

When he was born to a 19-year old mother, Justin had every intention of being the perfect son. He was well aware of the fact that his mother did not want kids. He knew his job was to be special so she could see that having a child was a miracle. This one thing would need to be the greatest thing that ever happened to her. Justin needed to be the one to show her. Then the time came and he was there in her arms. Their eyes met for the very first time and she saw. The world stopped spinning. Time and space made no sound. It was just mother and child. One moment. A moment that changed the way she viewed life. This was it. This was everything and more. And Justin knew he had done his job. He was special.

In was in that next moment when they crashed back into reality. The nurses grabbed that baby and made him cry. They cleaned him up and handed him back, crying. Gee, thanks.

I never wanted kids, but Justin changed my mind.