I just found out I am knocked up. This is after years of not wanting my own kids and finding the thought of pregnancy in reference to me down right disturbing. Don’t get me wrong, I celebrated the women I know and love who wanted to be pregnant, loved being pregnant, and who always wanted babies. I just happened to not be one of them. And okay, I totally judge them sometimes, but i try not too. It took years to become okay with the fact I was a woman who didn’t want to use my uterus to grow things. Brava to the ladies who do, I said, and I was being honest! I am all about women’s rights to choose their own lives. As with everything we humans go through, some of my people totally backed me and then some were convinced they knew better. I endured years of the comments, “You’re still young,” or “You will change your mind,” and so on (of course, now they think they were right. Dude, it wasn’t psychosomatic – it was the booze!). I was told I was scared of being a woman and I obviously didn’t like babies by some of the more cruel people. Little did I know it would get worse, although not in the way I was prepared for.
Fast forward to now. One drunken night and a few weeks later, I discover I am baking a lot more than kale chips and granola. I had two positive pregnancy tests. As is typical for me, I told everyone immediately – I don’t keep secrets. I texted my husband at work. Yeah, I know. I have already been told how bad it was to inform him by text. He could care less I did that, by the way. According to some people, because I am suddenly pregnant I must be delighted. No, not delighted I tell them. Then they decide I am just in shock and denial. Oh, I am shocked, but two tests tell me denial is pointless. They just shake their head knowingly and tell me I need to “let myself be excited.” I tell you what, all the “know it all’s” are worse than suddenly discovering my life is changed forever. (Yes, I am keeping the baby. While I support a woman’s right to choose, in my situation I figure it’s the result of my choice to have unprotected sex. I am, however, never throwing caution to the wind again. So I claim.)
Okay. So now I need to deal. I am not going to be that woman jumping for joy and excitement. And you know what? That’s okay. Why don’t women tell each other that it’s okay not to be excited? Seriously, don’t tell me I am the only woman unexcited to be pregnant who plans to keep the kid. I know I am not. I knew one girl who had a panic attack when she found out. I remember telling her to just be herself and stop listening to how she was supposed to be. I believe each of us was made as individuals and each life is different and precious. Within reason – I am not condoning women who think doing drugs while pregnant is okay. What I am saying, is we need to stop making gray areas with pregnancy black and white. I am going to stand up and say, my body, my choice, my life, my pregnancy, my husband, my marriage. We encourage women to have a choice, but they don’t really. As a newly pregnant woman, I am learning that the pressure to follow society’s opinion on pregnancy is strong. Going against it will be hard, but I am determined to. It’s between me, my husband, God, and our doctor. Step off.
I know what I need to do. I am going to be honest with my feelings, fears, anxiety, joy, lack of emotion, realism, and so forth. I don’t care if it’s “how it’s supposed to be.” Nothing is and should ever be that way. We humans need to quit having our little list of “what to do and feel in ____ situation.” Everyone is different. You know what? Because I let me be me, Kate the knocked up woman, I am actually somewhat excited. I am about to go adventuring and help pave a path that needs some serious work. One day I will tell my daughter how she came to be. I knew I was going to have her as soon as I found out, but I refused to lose myself to the requirements of society for her. I want my daughter to have the courage to be herself and be the woman she was made to be. I wouldn’t be doing right by her to spend her first few months of life in utero faking my way through and not speaking out. (Hey, and if it’s a son, then I have an opportunity to raise a man like my husband – someone who loves and respects and honors women. I won’t lie and say I totally prefer a girl.)