We are pregnant

I’ve always been a little snobby about the statement “We are pregnant.”  Yes, it takes two to bring life into the world, and a mother and father both waiting to welcome a child with outstretched arms is a beautiful thing.  “We are expecting…We are having a baby…We are due in 6 months…” – these are all perfectly acceptable to me.  The prep work and anticipation can be shared equally, as can the parenting duties once the child arrives.  But let’s be honest, when it gets down to it, only one of us is pregnant.  Only one of us is physically growing a baby and enjoying all the changes that go along with it.

Pregnancy is just plain hard work, and we as women know that men can never truly understand this.  So we try to make them appreciate it by subtly hinting at what ails us.  “I went downstairs and laid in the recliner last night for 3 hours, did I wake you up?...I just need to sit down - I’ve been in the kitchen all afternoon and my back is screaming at me…I just need to walk – my hips are sore…I don’t have hips anymore, so I don’t know how I’m supposed to cart around this laundry basket...I wish I knew what my bra size was this week!!...No, seriously, do you know what it’s like to feel like someone is clawing into your hip?...Well, I’m standing, so I guess that means I have to pee…Do you know where your sciatic nerve is?  I DO!”  Again, subtle hints.

 

To the general public and anyone who asks, I am an energetic pregnant lady, loving every minute of this ride (which overwhelmingly is true, honest, I really can’t complain).  But the annoyances have to come out somewhere, so we reserve the best for those we are closest to – enter my sweet hubby.  It’s true he will never himself feel what it’s like to be pregnant, but as I think about his behavior over the last few months it makes me second guess my soapbox.  When I interject one of my not-so-casual complaints, he always responds with genuine support and sympathy.  “Go sit down, I’ll do the dishes…Go walk on the treadmill for a while – I’ll handle bedtime tonight…Let me carry that…I’m sorry you’re not sleeping well, should I go to the guest room?...Is there anything I can do?”  And when I wake up in the middle of the night and sit up to stretch, he often silently rubs my back or whispers his thanks for carrying his child.

It occurs to me that perhaps the concept of being “pregnant” can be expanded beyond the literal, physical sense.  If pregnant means your life is completely altered for 9 months in anticipation of a child and you take on some burdens you otherwise wouldn’t, then yes, I would absolutely say we are pregnant.  As my gentleman of a husband quickly bends over to grab our son’s shoes before I have to and looks for every opportunity to make my life easier, I know that his life is different, too.  I know that when he offers compliments and reflexively responds to my complaints with affirmation, he is holding up his end of the deal.  It’s reasonable to think that living with a hormonal, self conscious partner is probably no picnic either, so I’m willing to expand my definition of pregnant to acknowledge that.

This realization hit me like a bolt of lightning when we took a mini family vacation this weekend to an indoor waterpark.  As we were packing up to return home, I watched my husband balance my body pillow on his shoulders, stuff my other pillow under his arm, and fill his hands with luggage as he prepared for the long, cold walk to the parking lot at the other end of the resort.  For some reason that sight grabbed me by the shoulders (oh, my poor, tense shoulders) and shook me a little bit.  I suddenly felt incredibly touched by his willingness to cart around my prego paraphernalia, no questions asked, and his determination to have his wife and son walk no further than 20 feet in the cold.  I was immediately filled with appreciation for all the moments of support – big and small – he has shown over the last few months that I often take for granted.  As I started to catalogue them in my mind, I realized what a change this is in his life as well.  And it occurred to me in that moment: this guy might be a little bit pregnant.