Alien or Babeh Friend?

Ok, so it is no secret that I am missing some, if not all, of that whole mommy-gene. I must start this post by telling all of my mommy friends that this is NOT about you. You are all fantastic mothers. Fortunately for you and unfortunate for me, if I thought differently my verbal vomit would have already clued you in. This post is about me…and MY issues. Brace yourselves mommies, this might be hard for you to read. I have NEVER felt that little squeeze in my heart while looking at a baby-friend and thought, “I want one!” Never, for real, not one time; in fact, I am more than a little freaked out by pregnancy and I am very quick to return a child to its rightful owner once it arrives. Don’t get me wrong…I love a good baby. They are so warm, soft and cuddly, when they belong to someone else. Part of the allure to me is that I can (and WILL) give them back when they:

A. cry
B. projectile vomit
C. need to eat
D. shit themselves
E. or just act like general assholes


When I was a kid my dad used to say that a pregnant woman was the most beautiful thing in the world. At the time I thought he needed his bifocals checked. The whole idea of pregnancy to me, even back when I was a kid was way messed up. I truly think of it like the movie Alien where that thing comes out of the girl’s stomach.

I personally am not down with sacrificing my freedom to house/grow/cook/incubate a tiny human friend. I like to smoke, drink and do the hoochie-coo if you know what I mean and babeh’s are not conducive to that lifestyle. The idea that this thing lives inside of you and feeds off you for 9 months; is insane to me. Couple that with the whole feeding ON you, should you choose to breastfeed, for the next 2-4 years…every 2-4 hours. Let’s face it…no one I know stops before 2…so far. Now you have extended out the sacrificing of freedom for 2 years and 9 months and that is IF you break them from the boob by 2.

I will admit a good deal of my fear comes from a terrible experience about 7 years and 2 months ago. A very old friend was pregnant back in 2002. She and baby daddy were not on great terms and things were rocky at best. She needed a Lamaze coach that she could count on and don’t ask me why but she asked me. I was floored, honored and scared to death all at once. We did 8 weeks of Lamaze for a few hours a night. We saw a birthing room, the tools, the massive stage lighting and the emergency equipment for just incase. As the big day approached I found her comforting me more than me comforting her. She was almost 10 months worth of swollen and ready for whatever was going to get that baby out. Me? Not so much.

I will attempt to make a long story very short here. Water broke at 2am (I thought she was joking when she called), got to hospital at 2:30, Epidural by 3ish (they were quick), contractions for hours then pushing for many more. At 4pm a REAL doctor comes in and informs us that little bits’ head is so big there is just no way he will coming out that exit. She has pushed for hours at this point. My arm is dead…no more needles; the poor thing is just DEAD from holding up a leg for the past 12+ hours. I don’t think I have ever felt so kicked in the gut as I did at that moment. Now remember, I am the coach….SMILE! It’s ok. We are going to be fine (WE are in this together now). He (this darling moose-headed child) will be here soon and you won’t even think of this. I was lying to both of us but it seemed to work. Within an hour we had a baby! He was fantastic and perfect, albeit cone-headed and I really do think she forgot all that pushing after. I, however, did not. I was exhausted and a bit traumatized. It took a few minutes of crying in my car to realize that most of the “emergency equipment” we learned of in class was used. I thought I was going to throw up my own heart when I saw them busting it all out but I was the coach and damn it my job was to encourage. I cried for a good long time in that parking garage.

A few days later we took the little one home. I was totally that paranoid 1st time father on the way home. We had to TRIPLE check the security of the baby seat and then I proceeded down the road at just 10 miles an hour as to not jostle the baby. Those first few weeks were so scary to me and I got to go home to my single life at the end of the night. I could not imagine then, nor can I now, the fear of being a single first-time parent. Then I thought about having the ideal mate as many of my friends do and I still can’t see myself doing it.

People have told me for years that eventually my clock would start ticking. I would get the bug when the time was right. So far, I still got nothing. I have friends that thought pregnancy was the most beautiful thing in the world and loved every minute of it. I think I would be the exact opposite. I am pretty sure I would not even like myself. No booze, no pot and no fun makes Little T a nasty B. Not to mention the aftermath of childbirth, I mean, what the hell do you do with them for the next 18 years? My parents did not do a great job and they are my influence so that is scary as hell. I have friends who have managed to break that cycle and I would have to go into motherhood knowing that I would do it differently. I won’t have children unless I really want them. I don’t see myself sitting down one day and saying “ok, I’m done with fun…let’s squeeze out a few puppies now”. I am about the most careful person on the planet when it comes to birth control (double up) so there will be no oops for me. I guess if it ever happens you will all know that I truly wanted it.

A few of my early opinions of pregnancy have changed. I completely agree with my dad that pregnant women are beautiful. My friends IRL Anna and Laura and also my friend Manda have been MORE beautiful pregnant. Laura is due any day so I can’t say for sure about her but Anna and Manda are both such changed people, yet entirely the same. They have both retained that pregnancy glow into the first year of motherhood and I know Laura will be no different. I have been around for Laura’s entire pregnancy (come on already, BBA!) and it is really amazing to feel a little life inside (as long as it is in someone else). You can actually make out body parts and play poke the baby. I loved these girls tremendously before but I feel like they are more now that they are mom’s. It is almost as if being a mom completed them. People tell me quite frequently what a great mom they think I would be. I am testing the faux step-mom roll with PB and I am not sure I am cut out for it. I worry that I will forget her places. Or I will forget to feed her. I always tell Dan it is because I didn’t carry her for 9 months and care for her every need for the first few years of her life but between you, me and the blogosphere, I would worry about forgetting my own kid too. I know there are babies having babies everyday in this country and this probably seems like a shallow and meaningless post to some but this is a real fear people. I tend to identify with the father so much more, perhaps because I played the daddy roll in my situation. I guess I do make a good coach for the labor coach. That has to count for something.

So….can you imagine a mini Little T? Please do let me know your thoughts on this; they are sure to be interesting!