When Babble invited me to blog for Being Pregnant, I wasted no time in accepting. That said, I did wrestle with one tiny logistical concern. I'm not pregnant - a fact my pregnant wife has delighted in pointing out on numerous occasions. This helpful observation is offered as irrefutable proof that I can't possibly imagine what it's like to be her. At least that's what I've gathered when she follows "you're not pregnant" with "so you can't possibly imagine what it's like to be me."
Touché. But two can play that game, my friends. For there's something that my wife cannot possibly imagine - what it's like to be married to someone who often holds biological impossibilities against me during hormone-fueled attacks.
As the stepfather of a 9-year-old and the father of toddler triplets, I'm not exactly a rookie over here. And I understand that most of my slopes for the next six months will be slippery ones. So I've decided to make the best out of it by learning as much as I possibly can about this condition with which I'll never be burdened. (Directly burdened, that is.)
And here are three extremely valuable lessons I've learned this go 'round.
1. A singleton pregnancy is much more difficult than a triplet pregnancy. When my wife and I learned of unexpected child number five, we quickly searched for any consolation we could find. (After we regained consciousness.) One was that a singleton pregnancy could not possibly be as difficult her triplet pregnancy had been. But in making such an assessment, we had forgotten to factor in the three entities which the triplet pregnancy had provided, two boys and one girl who, at age 3-1/2, climb all over my poor wife like a knocked up jungle jim.
Sadly, this pregnancy has proven to be extremely difficult. Unlike last time, it's not because of all this mom has to juggle on the inside, but rather what this mom has to juggle on the outside.
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2. Lay the ice cream down, put your hands in the air, and slowly back away from the table. Around 8 weeks into her pregnancy, Caroline happened upon me with a look that would have given Dirty Harry second thoughts. I was enjoying a modest serving of ice cream at the time. "Let's get one thing straight, tough guy," she began. "The ice cream? Don't mess with it. It's mine."
I didn't bother to tell her that there was over half of a pint left. Her point was crystal clear. I've not had a scoop since.
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3. Don't compare your wife's pregnancy to the NFL. Just don't. Okay? This one may seem obvious to you, but it wasn't to me. See, as a writerly type, I'm required to ramble on from time to time at various websites, one of my favorites being ManOfTheHouse . And the other day, I wrote one about how my wife's pregnancy has begun to resemble the NFL playoffs. Probably not the best metaphor to use in describing her pregnancy. Especially when Caroline's a bit more emotional than usual. Or so I gathered when she told me why the tongue-in-cheek post bothered her so much. Or at least when she tried to tell me.
"You're not pregnant so you can't possibly imagine what it's like to be me."
For more lessons men can learn from their wife's pregnancy, visit Babble's Being Pregnant.
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