May 7, 2008
Pregnant pause
A friend of mine is pregnant. To me, it’s the good kind of pregnant, that involving hopeful anticipation and a committed husband and financial stability. It’s not the bad kind of pregnant – or my kind of pregnant, as I imagine it might be – that involving a sobbing mother and my sister throwing me down the Exorcist stairs.

Upon learning the news of her pregnancy and first ultrasound appointment, I followed up my immediate exclamation points and congratulations with a request for the pictures. Shocking, I know. I had no plans to use them as a dartboard or to line the litter box, I assure you. She expressed disbelief at the interest everyone had in seeing the blurry images; why was anyone other than her and her hubby so excited to see their little being?

I really don’t know. When I meet her baby for the first time, I’ll try to talk college football with it, and when someone asks me to hold it, I’ll do so for the cameras to prove to my feline descendants that I am human, and then sit it upright on the couch and return to the cheese dip and my Cabernet. But there’s something about seeing the little tadpole as a part of her, of this woman I have known for years as a friend and a fellow student and as owner of one of the most amazing bodies known to man. It’s her, and therefore, it’s special simply because it is.

It’s also because it defies explanation in its magnitude. Well, there is a very basic explanation, but images of her and her wholesome husband in a series of compromising positions will leave me catatonic, so I’d rather not go there. The very fact that she is nuturing a human no larger than my palm, one who I’ll meet when I’m in Florida and see in Christmas pictures until I’m the oldest resident at the convent, simply boggles the mind. In an instant, everything is different. She is already more than a doctor, a wife, a friend, a counselor, an athlete; suddenly, she is a mother. It’s amazing and thrilling and almost unbelievable. I just want to witness it.

And it’s also because they’re so damn cute. Kittens and puppies are an outrageous kick to the soul, what with their neediness, their incessant howling and prancing at 4 am, their inabilities to learn schedules or that humans do in fact have pain receptors in all of the places they seem to think it’s fun to poke. Raising one certainly isn't for everyone. But they are sweet when they sleep, aren’t they? I remember our Yorkies when we first brought them home, the two of them fitting in the bottom half of a shoe box. Unbelievable. It’s similar for me. You almost can’t comprehend that something so small and perfect exists, a miniature slope of the nose, a forehead the relative size of Texas, a trace of two lips that someday will part - just as their mom's do - with riotous laughter. Almost, pretty, somewhat . . . ridiculously cool.

I swear I don't want one. Back to the cheese dip and Cab.


Blogger Elizabeth said...

Your blog title hooked me and now I'm just... hooked, haha. Love your blog.


Blogger Jorge said...

Shouldn't the title be Pregnant Paws?

Come on!

Blogger WildbillthePirate said...

I can just see you some years' hense, pulling out the blurry picture & saying: " See,I knew you when you were just a Tadpole; a smile in your mothers'eye!"

Blogger Kim said...

i was wondering what your reaction would be!! i wish you could see them. they are both so delighted. and oddly, i - like you - am too! even though i don't want one either. i hope you will visit soon so we can celebrate.

Other people's children are much more fun than your own. You can have the good times and give them back when they start misbehaving!

Blogger Rachel said...

It's nice when the pregnancy is a happy pregnant, and I don't agree...I think that lots of babies are not very cute.

Blogger MereCat said...

You don't have to want one to enjoy someone else's. That's the beauty of other people that you are close to having babies. You get all the fun and none of the responsibility. It's perfect! I'm glad you get to be a part of your friend's joy.

Blogger Skyzi said...

I need some sort of notice when there will be talk of babies and joy and how cute (if you are lucky)they are. My ovaries can't handle this kind of stimulation at this hour.

Blogger kris said...

I will ignore that pun like it's my job. ;) Hilar.

And I should clarify, I think they're all cute on ultrasounds. Because, come on, they are! Tadpoles!

Blogger t2ed said...

When you get the ultrasound loudly exclaim, "It's a boy and what a boy! Oh wait, that's the umbilical cord."

Don't hold the baby like a loaf of bread. They tend to squeak when you do that.

Anonymous Anonymous said...

You were still talking about puppies at the end, right? You threw me a little with the forehead, but I think...yeah, definitely puppies.

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Good one, comparing your Yorkies to your friend's baby. Hee..Hee.. That's totally like me. But I have to admit I do want one of those little buggers. (not the Yorkies the baby)

Anonymous Food Rockz Man said...

Feline descendants . . . cheese dip and Cabernet . . . you're dreamy! When can I move in?

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Babies are so fun when they're not your own. You can speak gangsta to them and not goo-goo crap. I am trying to get my best friend's 14-month old to say "word" when he waves goodbye.

And I saw him when he was the size of a Rice Krispie. Good for you for asking them!

Blogger missbhavens said...

I share both your amazement with womb tadpoles and your desire not to have one. It's a strange dichotomy that most people don't understand...and I'm in the biz!

The whole "growing a human" thing is totally wild.

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