Friday, April 8, 2005

We'd Like It To Be A Surprise!

What's with pregnant couples who don't want to know what the sex of their baby is?  "Oh, we'd like it to be a surprise." 

Mrs. Linklater can only smile in astonishment at the reality check that's coming. 

Surprise? You want a surprise? How about pushing a watermelon through a straw, or a sofa through the mail slot. There's a surprise for ya. 

How about no sleep for the rest of your life? Let's talk about surprises at 2:00 AM, when you're trying to nurse with sore nipples that feel like they're being poke poke poked by a thousand tiny needles, attached to a suction cup that won't burp or go back to sleep. Repeat at 4:00 AM and 6:00 AM for eternity.

How about no sex either? Ha!! Any baby born less than two years later has been conceived at gunpoint. Wait until the words "Touch me and you die!" leave your lips for the first time. 

How about poop that looks like curdled mustard? Or scrambled eggs?  And smells like -- well, gag me.

These are the same folks who don't want to know the sex of their baby because they think it'll be such a nice surprise to find out whether it's a boy or a girl after 18 hours of pushing that bowling ball out of its carrier. Oh, look my darling husband, our sweetums has been born.  Surprise me, my beloved.  Is it a boy or a girl? 

Like you could give a rip by then. Boy? Girl? Why didn't they give me an epidural sooner. Why didn't you tell me this would hurt so much. "Touch me and you die!"

On the other hand, while Mrs. Linklater didn't know the sex of her first child until she was in labor and the ob nurse listened to its heart and announced, "You've got a girl" -- her doctor announced that her second child was female when she was three months pregnant.  He played her baby's heart sounds for all to hear and said, "It's a girl" because girls have strong steady beats and this one was sturdy enough for a part in Drumline.

Now, of course modern technology can not only give you the sex of your baby, you can see his little wee wee in 3-D too. And they still want it to be a surprise.

Not Mrs. Linklater. For the rest of her second pregnancy she liked talking to her baby girl by name. Her big sister liked talking to her too. She was a real little person growing inside. 

Some of her friends were aghast. "But what if something happens and she dies?"  They didn't think she should get too involved with her unborn child until it proved it could take the heartbreak of being born. Here again Mrs. Linklater can only wonder at their complete, oh, stupidity. 

Do they think if they don't know the sex of the baby and they haven't given it a name that they will feel BETTER if the baby dies? 

Au contraire, by the time her daughter was born, Mrs. Linklater had already forged a powerful bond with her newborn. So had her big sister. Her dad, not so much.  He was old school. Don't bother him until they can talk.

As for surprises? You want surprises? They've got something that'll knock your socks off every day.

 

 

13 comments:

Anonymous said...

How's this for a surprise: "You're pregnant with your 4th child!" My back hurts just thinking about it.

Cracked, bleeding nipples? Mustard seed poop. Yeah, Baby! That's what I'm talkin' 'bout. Thank God for the sweet cocoon of "This child is an expression of my undying love for What's-His-Name." No one would sign up for that 2 am feeding otherwise.

Anonymous said...

I with you on this one.... I found out as soon as possible the sex of my babies... and was so thankful they were boys... I didn't want one of me roaming around the house!  
Tracy

Anonymous said...

I second that emotion (well, or 4th it).

If I attend another yellow baby shower, I'm going to scream  So many secretions from the infant are yellow---why surround the child with that color simple for a surprise.

I revolt against all the yellow, purple and non-gender specific themes.  The first time a friend pulled the "I don't want to know" crap, I got her two outfits: one pink, one blue.

The next one who did it got an "IOU" coupon...gift receivable upon gender identitification.  That one actually worked out well because she ended up completely overhauling the bambino's lilac room into a little boy's sports-themed palace and needed all the help she could get.

~tara :)

Anonymous said...

isn't that the truth!!! In the delivery room I grabbed X by his shirt and thick luxurient chest hairs and told him he would NEVER do this to me again!!!! Great entry Mrs. L. judi

Anonymous said...

Why! I never thought of it that way!
My Ob/Gyn told me from the heartbeat, too.
Kathy

Anonymous said...

You guys!!! These comments are better than my entry.  Cut it out!!! LOL Mrs. L

Anonymous said...

My late wife described chilbirth to me as similar to ... "shitting a football."

Anonymous said...

I'm a firm believer in that a woman's best friend in childbirth is not her husband or her coach but rather the anesthesiologist.
"Why didn't you tell me this would hurt so much."  Ha, you know, even if you warn people, they don't believe you (you know the type: "What do I do?" You advise.  They then say "But the book says...")  I recommend to all my prego friends not to be a hero, and to call ahead for one before they leave for the hospital.  AAHH...that's much better. <rofl--love this entry, Mrs L.  I lurk here all the time too.>
Anna

Anonymous said...

Wow! Sp true! It is very comical when we look back at labor and delivery. And, oh such sweet, lovinf results. Love your journal! God bless, Beckie
http://journals.aol.com/beckieramos/BeckiesBrightBeginnings

Anonymous said...

What? No has added the famous Bill Cosby childbirth experience for men yet?
1. Grasp your lover lip between the thumbs and index fingers of both hands.
2. Pull the lip up over the top of your head.

Anonymous said...

Nothing says "I love you" more than watching a group of people saw open your wife's gut and yank a cheesy-blue alien from her basketball-sized uterus.

"See these? These are the fallopian tubes!!"

I saw this matinee twice. The second time I brought my own gloves.

Anonymous said...

wow. I went through transition and freaked out for a couple of hrs. because I gave natural childbirth. But I feel like a freak reading all this funny stuff. I swear this is not lie. my husband and I dated 13 yrs. 2 months after we got married we decided to have our first baby together but she was both of our second child by another marriage. I loved being pregnant with her. I loved my body. after transition I loved giving birth and breast feeding was something her and I both loved and did until she was 22 months. poop from a breast fed baby didn't stink like formula did to me. I sayed home with her until she graduated high school. Her father was killed at 16 in auto accident. She was a huge daddy's girl but now a huge momma's girl. She's 22 yrs old now. I'm putting her through 2 full time colleges by working in a casino.
she's majoring in financial business and to be a  professional Ballet Dancer. She moved far away to college but moved back home with me in 3 weeks and reinrolled in great colleges here. She helps me in everyway with home chores and living chores. I really loved the whole process of the child things ya'll described even getting pregnant. Her father and I had sex everyday for a month when we decided to get pregnant. Ha Ha lol man I really loved that part, but no poop folkes!!  I loved it so so much. I was made to be a mother and now I'm single and now that I'm healing over my husband's death I love being single and only taking care of me. It's wonderful both ways. I was really into all those funny things ya'll described  back in the day lol
http://journals.aol.com/judypearllove/MomentsofJudyPearl/   AND

Anonymous said...

in the interest of journalistic accuracy, Mrs. Linklater feels compelled to mention that she never had an epidural or any other anesthesia.  She never grabbed her husband and said, TOUCH ME AND YOU DIE.  But she sure had friends that did. She survived the pain of thousands of tiny needles to breastfeed both of her children for a very long time. No thanks to anyone but herself.

In the middle of her labor, she did, however, tell a very tall, handsome blond resident who said he couldn't examine her progress without causing her a great deal of discomfort to "GET THE F**K OUT OF HERE AND GET SOMEONE WHO CAN."  But she couldn't figure out a way to get that into her entry.  Until now.  Mrs. L