Buzzkills.

Let me first apologize for my absence. My blessed laptop's cord broke, and I reserve my desktop purely for work I'm paid for. Until now, when I got so worked up that I did the unthinkable: put the kids in front of Caillou so I could escape for 20 minutes. My poor husband has been dealing with my unblogged hormones for weeks now, and he is quite the champ. Now onto my rant. I'm all hyped up on caffeine-free Pepsi, so let's go!

"How are you sleeping?"
"Fine."
"Just wait..."

"How are you feeling?"
"Great!"
"Just wait..."

"What are you having?"
"A girl! We're so excited!"
"Well, I had a friend whose grandmother was told she was having a girl, only to deliver twin boys. I wouldn't paint that room pink just yet. And hold onto the receipts."

What the heck is wrong with these people?! Why is it impossible to be happy and joyous and share in the ecstasy someone is experiencing?! Even once the baby arrives, Betty Buzzkill is lurking around the corner, waiting to pounce on your bubble and pop it like it's hot. My kids used to sleep 14 hours every night. It was glorious. It was magical. It was too good to be true for some people. "Just wait, that won't last." So what?! It didn't last, of course, but why ruin the magical time during which I was a well-rested and caught-up-on-my-shows parent? Is it that the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence, so people feel the need to dump their manure on it, making both sides look brown? Is it because, once again, anyone who has ever sniffed Baby Magic assumes that they are qualified to hold three graduate degrees in child development, sonography, and obstetrics? Is it because us pregnant women are so magically lit from within when we smile with contentment that we blind others around us, and it's for the good of mankind that someone rain on our parade?
Who knows why. I'm hoping it's the last one, but that would require a lot more thought than some people put into their comments to pregnant women. A very dear and amazing friend of mine is pregnant right now. She has two insanely gorgeous boys, and has very selflessly carried twin boys as a surrogate for an amazing couple (now family!). If you're keeping count (which I can't), that's four boys in three pregnancies. Very concentrated with peepees. She, of course, like anyone who has multiple children of the same gender, has been receiving the "I hope it's a girl when are you going to try for a girl don't you want a girl the next one better be a girl" speech for years. Yesterday, she posted, very excitedly and happily, a sonogram picture of just HOW MUCH of a boy the new baby is. Wow. I'm blushing thinking about it. The majority were happy for her, as they should be! But there was the dark, plotting minority who couldn't accept that THEIR preferences hadn't been met. Betty Buzzkill popped up, possessed these women (most likely mothers themselves - they should be ashamed) to rear their heads and open their mouths and cry foul. I can't describe the ultrasound without making this blog inappropriate for those under 30, but it was obvious. Yet still, Betty assumed that her proximity to pregnant women granted her a medical degree, and announced that baby boy was in fact growing a foot between his legs, and "there's still hope for your girl" after all. First of all, why would you wish a baby to grow feet from his netherlands? Why would you hope that a child have feet that are shaped so that they have to be blurred out on TV? Second, by stating that "there's still hope", you insinuate that having a boy is a lost cause, a tragedy of epic proportions, something that is unwanted. Can you tell this is what sent me over the edge today and caused me to throw out what little patience I had so that I could hear Caillou's whiny, bald voice in the background? (Yes, his voice is bald. I'm pregnant. Let me have it.)
My angry point is that when you see a pregnant woman, a new mom, ANYONE happy about something, let them have it. Radio was happy to stay a junior in high school forever. Was he as old as Moses and in no way a high school junior? Yes. But was it worth it to have ruined his happiness to tell him so? Absolutely not, unless you're a black-hearted monster.
Let us be Radio. I promise you we're not unaware of what is to come. We know babies don't sleep well. We know pregnancy is a physically-draining event and we're not going to feel like sunshine the entire ten months. We know that there are stories of women who had delivery-room surprises. But we also know that our doctors hold medical degrees and have years of experience. We know we'll gain weight. We know stretch marks are genetic. We know diapers are expensive and are NOT air fresheners. We took all this into account and STILL chose to create a baby, a family, a whole new life. So keep your opinions and nay-saying to yourself, Betty. If you can't be happy for us, then buy us a gift card and move on.