Friday, February 27, 2009

Opposite Land

No picture this time. I feel like I need a picture in order to keep people's attention. I decided to post a link to this blog on facebook yesterday; I was very torn about doing so, because part of me wanted to keep it anonymous. I have a terrible habit of being too honest, saying exactly what I think about people, thinking there's no way they would actually read this. And part of me secretly hoping they'll read this, so they can hear what I think, but later regretting the decision. For these reasons, and my inane habit of putting my foot in my mouth and offending whole ethnic groups, weight classes or religions in one fell swoop, I hesitated. But my desire to not be speaking into a void got the better of me, my desire to be heard. And I've heard from a couple of you that you're entertained, meaning at least my embarrassing moments can be joy for someone. So onward I go.

So I've gotten many "Congratulations" about this whole business now that the word is out. It's apparently a natural sentiment, because everyone says it, but I find it an odd one. For a few reasons.
1) What if this was an accident? It wasn't, not that I'm sure I'd confess if it was, but do you congratulate people for accidents? And unless you know for sure, doesn't this make the sentiment thin ice?
2) You're essentially congratulating us for bumping uglies. That A's boys can swim. That my eggs... I don't think my eggs really did anything. Weird thing to congratulate.

I know that for some (many) people it is not so easy. There is much effort involved and thus congratulations are due. Perhaps it is just our own peculiar circumstances that make the whole thing a little odd, I'm sure many have earned those congratulations. For many, the boys didn't just swim, they had to learn freaking acrobatics.

Once you get pregnant, and even before that, you enter opposite land. Suddenly you can tell your parents "We're trying" and they're psyched that their little girl is having sex. This thing that you've tried for a decade or more to avoid suddenly becomes the sought after goal. This condition that would have embarrassed you in High School, and even in College, becomes cause for congratulations.

On a side note, but a happy one, I finally submitted my final revisions for my Master's thesis yesterday. I wash my hands of it. I take a few days off (thus blogging rather than working). I go buy maternity clothes. That is how I celebrate.

1 comment:

  1. I agree that the change from sex is bad to sex is wonderful in our parent's eyes is hilarious. On the congratulations note--there is another option. The congratulations is not for getting pregnant, for the ability to get pregnant, for surviving the pregnancy, or any of that. If it were an accident it does not matter because I think the congratulations is for later. It is for the moments 9 months, 3 years, 15 years later when your Paris (ite) has become a full blown human and does the most amazing things possible. They smile at you, they crawl, they go to kindergarten, they solve world hunger. The congratulations which are so universally given are for the feeling you will repeatedly undergo when you look at the miracle the universe has blessed you with for years to come.