Preamble (by tiny dog):

To those tiny dog family members who are aware that the rarest of events has occurred --a new member of our microscopic and generally non-procreative family is on the way to joining our neurotic nexus of techno-gadget-laden funsanity, courtesy of my brother and his wife-- I present you the commentary of the mother to be, who respectfully requests that the general public stop scaring her.

She has written to tiny dog to speak out against the twisted underworld of pregnancy machismo, into which well-meaning passers-by have unceremoniously swept her like an air hockey puck. I thank fate that she has begun to machete her way into this florid jungle of scatological pre-partum scare tactics, and will therefore know what to advise should I ever inflict my questionable genetic legacy upon a helpless infant, because, just thinking about it, if anyone asked me about shower themes or made reference to perineal tearing in my presence, I'd take their face off like Hannibal the Cannibal.

I leave you with this parting thought. About our forthcoming family member, who is currently and informally known by way of the placeholder "Bucky the fetus," my brother has declared: "Bucky will be the first of mankind to live on another plane... with monks and fish who just live and don't need hate and Target ®."

Amen, my brother.

On to the rant:

My life is facing a major change in reality. I'm 34 years old, and have just entered the freaky world of pregnancy.

I knew it would be different, but there's a whole sub-culture going on that I only knew from a distance. And now that I have been inducted into this baby making sorority, I am hesitant to understand the motivations that cause many women to act the way they do when this phenomenon happens. But heck, I guess I can just blame it on hormones, like everyone else does. I shall now respectfully begin the rant, dedicated to parents and non-parents alike.

I saw this odd phenomenon occur well before I entered mother-to-be status. Someone explain to me why, when young mothers gather together in groups, that the talk almost always turn to one of three major issues: their individual pregnancy experiences, their individual labor experiences, and their children's newest actions and/or behavior.

The first topic is the hardest for me, now in my 11th week. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy good conversation as much as anyone, but now that I'm pregnant, the last thing I want to hear are the horrors of pregnancy, as if they were the norm. My bladder felt like the size of a pea. My morning sickness lasted every day of my pregnancy. My ankles swelled like melons. I don't know what was worse, the acne up above or the hemorrhoids down below.

OK people, except for the daily nausea, sore boobs, frequent bathroom visits, and a growing apprehension of how much more my hormones will change, I don't know what the rest of my pregnancy will be like. And I don't want to be expecting the absolute worst because I let myself blindly believe each women's horror story as gospel. I know we're all sisters as far as women go, but why do people always like to go into such detail? Does TMI mean anything, anymore?! (Now, I realize my statement about the nausea and sore boobs thing was probably running along this same lines, but like I said, I'm blaming it all on the hormones).

The second topic is going to drive me insane as I get closer to the ominous due date. Every mother has experienced labor. But coming from someone who hasn't quite been there yet, the gruesome labor stories are NOT NEEDED AT THIS TIME. I know I'm starting to get a bit dramatic, but you know what I'm talking about. Labor was the most excruciating pain I have ever experienced in my life. My labor lasted 72 hours. The epidural didn't start to work in time. I tore during labor. I had to get a C-section, and my husband saw the baby being lifted from my stomach... what a beautiful experience. Ugh!! This falls back into my TMI category. There is enough stress within your standard pregnancy. Adding pain, blood, gore and general body damage to the list of fears about labor is not necessary, folks.

The third topic is easier to recognize when you are within the non-parent category. Lets face it, parents love to talk about their kids. But what seems to be a pure miracle to one parent may seem very slight to the non-parent. The fact that little Johnny made his first poo poo in the potty doesn't exactly make for great dinner party conversation. The most appropriate way I can think of to act in this situation would be to nod and say, "That's great." I won't delve into this area too much, since I know that I'm not far from the proud parent syndrome myself. Heck, my husband and I tell stories of what the latest thing our cats have done at work.

I know, sad.

There are just a few stray pregnancy issues that I wanted to mention before I end the rant. Can anyone tell me why the following questions get asked repeatedly when you're pregnant: How far along are you? When are you due? Are you going to find out the sex? Do you have names picked out? Are you going to get an epidural? Why aren't you going to find out the sex? When is your shower? What is your shower theme? Yikes. I didn't even know showers had themes. I still feel pretty new at this, and many of the questions become steamroller-overwhelming quickly. I think everyone kind of expects you to just know absolutely everything about a process that is designed to take a lot of time. Not happening.

Don' get me wrong, I'm totally happy and excited about this new direction my life is taking. But who knows, in a year's time, I could develop into the perfect Stepford mom, and be the one scaring the moms-to-be with my tales of how beautiful pregnancy can be.

Send mail to mail@tiny-dog.com.