The only pregnancy I’ve ever really seen the ins and outs of was my own mother’s when she was carrying my brother. One of the most memorable moments was a day when she made me skip school to go to doctors appointment with her, and they had to stick a giant Q-tip in her…well, you can guess where it had to go. Five-years-old, I rolled around on the floor laughing. 29-years-old, I sit here squeamish.
The idea, the thought, the reality of a human growing inside of me is terrifying. I’m barely good at keeping myself alive, so the pressure of being responsible for that baby in my body – NOPE. Don’t want that. I’m not strong enough and that’s why I respect those who’ve gone through pregnancies. I can’t even imagine what those months feel like. You can always hear the tales and of course ask questions but the fact is – you’ll never really know until you go through it, so I guess I never will.
Don’t get me wrong, I get baby fever from time to time when I see an adorable baby on Instagram but it’s the whole having to carry it around thing that definitely derails those initial thoughts. Plus, remember…I’m not adult enough to put a kid’s needs before mine right now, perhaps ever. Hey, at least I can admit that and take my little pill every day to make sure I don’t bring anyone into my world that I’m not fully prepared to care for.
Back to the pregnancy thing though, scared shitless that one day I’ll go through that. I remember the first time I ever took one of those piss tests, sitting in the bathroom for a few minutes hoping like hell it read the results I needed it to. It’s a scenario I’m sure many have gone through in their lifetime. So that’s why again, I pop that pill daily and always make sure we’re protected because I don’t want to start something I don’t want to and sure as hell can’t finish.