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| I gave you the moon and stars, and now I want some back. Photo from Acanthus Jewelry Instagram. |
At seven months pregnant with my second future kid, fourth
pregnancy, I’m telling you it’s not fair. It’s not fair that he gets to be a
daddy and doesn’t have to waddle with butt pain. He doesn’t have to give up eating
raw fish, all tuna, and unpasteurized cheese. He doesn't have to go the doctor's office for monthly check-ups and the lab for countless blood draws and urine collections. It’s not fair that he can have
that gin Bloody Mary I want, and the IPA I want, and the stout, and the glass
of wine to help digest the Italian food, and the second glass of wine. It’s not
fair that he can still squat and sneeze at the same time without peeing his
pants. It’s not fair that once he does get that second kid, the icing on the
cake of our family, the fulfillment of our deepest wish, he doesn’t have to
experience the searing pain of a breastfeed latch. He doesn’t have to keep it
to one beer. He doesn’t have to lose 20 pounds, maybe 30, maybe 40. He doesn’t have to be held
hostage with every meal from my tender boobs. He doesn’t need to pump in
airports and have TSA fondle his ice packs.
You might be thinking, you don’t have to breastfeed. You
don’t have to lose the weight. You can eat a little bit of chunk light tuna and have a few sips of wine. To
which I say, just fuck off.
What could make this better is getting a Birth Mother’s Day.
If you’ve birthed your kid, you should get the day after their birthday as a
bonus Mother’s Day. The Mother’s Day we already celebrate is canceled out by Father’s Day, yet the father did far far far far less to bring this kid into the world. (Please swap “other mother” for “father” if that suits you.) Therefore, birth mamas deserve extra. I’ll have three total Mother Days per year. Let's make four the max per mom because I'm reasonable.
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| This is very comfortable. |
We deserve these extra days in
appreciation of carrying that kid in our body for 40 weeks, abstaining from
so much, GETTING THE KID OUT, and then abstaining some more while attempting to
heal with insufficient sleep. The kids don’t need to do anything special for us
on Birth Mother’s Day (although they should on the standard Mother's Day because that's an appreciation of the ins and outs of mothering). We wanted those damn kids, no matter how hard the
pregnancy became. The father though? This is his time to shine. He’s a daddy thanks
to this effort, this insane sacrifice, and this is his yearly chance to say
thank you for it. To remind me how I awed you that day. To tell me how lucky you are to
have had ME carry and birth your kid. To tell me how honored you feel to experience the swelling pride and happiness of fatherhood, thanks to ME, your god damn goddess. Small gift required.
You might be thinking, but don’t you already have something
extra special from being the mom? You have a greater bond with your kid! They probably
even love you a teensy bit more. To which I say, show me the necklace.
