Freakin' Babies!

It seems like everyone around me is having a baby. And that’s fine, great for you, but I’m begging, please don’t tell me about the gruesome details.

I must be the only female in the world who thinks pregnancy is weird and a bit gross. And it must be because I’m of child-bearing age that makes people think I want to hear about membranes or stretch marks or fluids.

Yuck.

Don’t get me wrong. I love kids. I can’t imagine life without my nieces and nephew. As well as my ‘adopted’ nieces and nephews. Love those little critters like cray-zay! And I’d like a couple kids of my own, sure. But I’m thoroughly convinced that buying kids is the way to go, adopt them from some teenage mother who didn’t know better. Skip the grossness, the unpleasantness, the weird alien growing inside, but still have my kid. I’m of the mindset that you don’t have to make the child for it to be yours. “Family” is an earned title, not one that is granted with DNA.

And what’s up with the delivery room pictures?? Talk about uncomfortable! I don’t need to see anything that ever takes place in a delivery room! If you want to take pictures (which I completely don’t understand. I don’t want to record what I look like as some alien parasite exits my body), whatever, but why email them to people you barely know? Or post them on Facebook? Or put them on the internet in any form?

What happened to the good old days where you only told people the stuff you couldn’t hide anymore? I long for the days when I didn’t have to say ‘TMI’ at least twice a day.

So, if you’re expecting, CONGRATULATIONS! I can’t wait to spoil your kid. Just please don’t tell me about your mucus-anythings, or how your belly button is inverted, or any other pregnant yuckies.

And single girls everywhere will thank you.