Babyzilla Attacks!
Pregnancy turned me into a micromanaging monster.
by Kim Brooks
November 19, 2007
And this situation was only a warm-up. It quickly became clear to me that pregnancy was no longer simply a physiological state; it was a state of mind as well. When I mentioned to a pregnant friend that I wasn't giving up soft cheese, that my doctor had said it was fine as long as it was pasteurized, she looked at me as if I'd just taken a crack pipe out of my pocket. When I admitted in my natural-leaning birthing prep class that I was still open to pain medication, the room fell silent. Looks were exchanged. I saw opportunities for future playdates disintegrating before my eyes. In this sort of atmosphere, it's not hard to begin viewing every decision you make about pregnancy and labor as a reflection of your personality, a highly-stylized armor with which you can protect yourself against the exigency inherent in growing, then expelling, another person from your body. In this sense, labor day is heading in the direction of the wedding day, an event where every detail and decision is bestowed with such significance that normal women find themselves disappearing inside the whirlwind.
And as with wedding planning, I've found myself to be disturbingly susceptible to the trend. Before deciding on a hospital, I toured five labor and delivery units, ruling out one because the lighting in the birthing rooms was too harsh, another because one of the nurses seemed to have a surly look about her. I started packing my overnight bag for the hospital three months before my due date (you never know if you'll go early!), packing it and then repacking it when I had stuffed it past the point of zipping, then re-packing it again when I decided a streamlined approach was superior. I even spent a whole afternoon debating the pros and cons of a pre-labor bikini wax with my sister: on the one hand, lying on my back deprives my baby of oxygen; on the other hand, aren't things going to be messy enough down there?
Most people have known or heard of a woman who, at some point during her engagement, devolved into a "bridezilla,"Labor day is heading in the direction of the wedding day, an event where every detail and decision is bestowed with such significance that normal women find themselves disappearing inside the whirlwind. a once-sane woman with a wide range of interests transforming into a single-minded monster incapable of any thought or conversation that doesn't involve the big day. My fear is that we former bridezillas are now at risk of becoming babyzillas. After putting embarrassing wedding obsessions behind us, we're presented with so many birthing options, we sometimes lose sight of the fact that labor is a means, not an end — just as many zealous brides find themselves forgetting that in addition to having a wedding, they're getting married.
©2007 Kim Brooks and Nerve Media
About the Author
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Kim Brooks has written for Glimmer Train, One Story, Epoch
and the Missouri Review. She also writes non-fiction for
The Crier. She lives in Chicago with her husband and son. |
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