The More You Know

For all the women out there. Men might want to go read a sports blog for awhile.

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My life has become a PSA for abstinence.

Occasionally, I'll hear of some misguided teenage girl longing to have a baby, and it just makes me want to shake somebody. Of all the things to wish for at that time in your life, pregnancy is about the craziest. More often than not, though, teenage pregnancy is probably the result of actions with little regard to consequences.

Haha. I can tell you about the consequences.

I feel like I should be the Statue of Pregnancy, holding up the beacon of truth and the inscription "Bring me your misguided teenage girls."

Pregnancy isn't what you see on tv. It's not all gushing tears and adorable baby bellies. Women don't float through gestation with a beautiful smile on their faces daydreaming about soft blankets and fuzzy teddy bears.

Pregnancy is work.

Starting with morning sickness, which is a cute way of saying you'll feel like puking all.the.time. And many times you actually will puke. And it's not like you'll feel better afterwards. About seven minutes later, it will start all over again. Food is disgusting. Any and every edible morsel will suddenly be repulsive and cause you to vomit before you even eat it.

They make medicine for that, right? No problem! Until you discover that the medicine (which is incredibly expensive; hope you have good insurance) doesn't actually cure the problem, just curbs it a little bit. Occasionally. When it wants to. So instead of throwing up seven times a day, it might go down to about five. Lucky you! And it will make you sleepier than you already are. And give you headaches. And create baseballs in your intestines.

And let's not forget a special little side effect of all this straining to puke and...pitch a baseball. You might burst a blood vessel in your eye. I could post a picture. It's not pretty. And when people exclaim "what happened to your eye?!" you get the joy of telling them it is the result of bathroom activities.

Finally, you make it through the first half of pregnancy. Now the fun can begin. Food looks good again. In fact, it looks real good. A month ago, that cheeseburger looked disgusting, and now it's all you can think about. So you get a cheeseburger. It's delish. You feel happy. But the happiness is temporary, and within an hour, you're thinking about another cheeseburger. It might as well be made of gold, it's that hard to resist. So before long, you've eaten enough to support a small village and you have acid reflux on top of it. Some of us might refer to it as heartburn, but it actually means you throw up in your mouth eighty times a day. Because you didn't get enough of that in the first trimester. And before you know it, you've gained a lot of weight, roughly the equivalent of Justin Bieber (before his haircut).

And the kicking. At first, it's a relief and wonderful to feel those tiny flutters inside. It's a sign that the tiny thing inside you causing your body to fall apart is real and alive and okay. It's nice. For a couple of weeks, until the munchkin gets some really good power behind those tiny feet. And he will aim at precise locations as if he knows what will make you scream in pain or wet your pants.

Yeah, you heard me right. Wet your pants.

Then you start to swell and resemble a character from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. Your shoes don't fit. Your ankles disappear. Your trunk suddenly stores a lot of junk. You go through all the sizes of maternity clothes. Where once you were a cute XS, now you are a robust XXL. Your face swells. Your eyes water from the pressure. Your nose grows larger. Your hands look like sausages.

You no longer look like you. You look like the thing that ate you.

Your one relief is that you don't see any stretch marks appearing on your stomach. Just wait. They're there. You probably just can't see them, because, like your size ten feet, they are hiding beneath your beach ball of a belly, snickering that you think they're not there.

And then the baby comes. And it's...it's not pretty. Everything your body can produce will be produced in front of half a dozen strangers. Yay! Oh, and it hurts. I'll just leave it at that.

And after all that is over, the real work begins.

Here's my point. When you're married to the love of your life, all this is worth it. It's not enjoyable, or fun, but it's worth it. You are making a family. And it will push you both to grow up a lot. Pregnant wives teach husbands about being selfless. And new babies teach moms about being selfless. It's a time to stretch and grow (literally and figuratively) and be taught some of the hardest lessons of your life.

But it's not something to be flippant about. It's not something that can be handled on your own, no matter how strong you think you are. It doesn't make problems disappear, it just pushes you into an arena of bigger decisions and pressure.

God wasn't being mean when He declared that sex is for marriage. He was protecting us.

And lest you think that pregnancy is easily avoided these days thanks to modern precautions, let me just add:

My current baby is one of those lucky "three percent" you read about in fine print on the back of certain packages. FYI.

So, other moms, what ailments did I forget to mention? :)