You sit down with your friend who’s 7 months pregnant. She’s glowing and beautiful wearing clean clothes, beautiful hair that’s neatly arranged and makeup perfectly on. You can’t help but think she’s the “before” picture and you are most certainly the “after” picture.
You glance down at your tank top that’s covered in, well actually, you don’t know what it’s covered in but you’re sure it’s from your baby’s mouth, nose, hands or *cringe* diaper. As you’re trying to identify the foreign material on your shirt, about 6 different clumps of hair are falling in your face from your unkempt hair. Your makeup? Well, the only makeup you’re wearing is the mascara you put on 3 days ago that rubbed off and is now currently under your eyes.
So, as you’re wallowing in your own pathetic situation, you decide to focus on your friend instead. After the usual questions, you finally ask “So are you getting nervous?”
You fully expect her to say “Yes! I have nothing prepared! I’m starting to freak out!” But instead, she says “Nope! Not at all. I have everything ready.”
As you realized time didn’t stop, but only you, yourself froze by her response…you manage to utter the words “huh?”
She starts telling you how she’s going to only breastfeed her baby, she’s not going to co-sleep, she’s going to sleep train her baby from day one, she’s going to make her own baby food, etc…
In your head you’re dying laughing, you’re thinking she may be crazier than you thought, and you want to shake her violently and scream “YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU’RE ABOUT TO GO THROUGH!”
But who are you to tell her that. She has high hopes of doing all these things like a well-oiled machine. Maybe it’s a good thing to let her be calm until she has the baby. Right? RIGHT?!
I flashback to when I was pregnant. I was nervous and totally unprepared. I had no delusions of grandeur that I was in any way ready. Everyone told me it was going to be the hardest thing I’ve ever done. But I still wish someone would have scared me 10 times worse.
So here I am, debating on if I tell her the truth and say your body is going to be destroyed and hours later you’re going to have to care for a tiny baby and you’ll have no time to recover. Or that the baby more than likely won’t let you sleep through the night for months and the sleep deprivation alone will make you go crazy. Forget about showering. Forget about going out. Life as you know it, is over.
So instead, I tell her she’s doing great and that I’m so proud of her. But also, that she better never hesitate to call me if she’s ever having a bad moment, needs help or just needs to talk. It’s not my place to tell her what to do or what she’s about to enter into. Unless she asks me.
So until her baby is born, I let her be blissfully naive about what’s to come. I feel like she needs to stock up on all the sleep she can get, peaceful meals, showers and meeting up with friends. Because her world is about to be turned upside down! But I’ll be there with wine and cookies.