I love writing. I feel free when I’m writing. But I always have this block. This immediate “who the hell wants to read this shit?” that completely blocks me from writing everything I want to write and say everything that I want to say. There are people in this world who say and display everything for the everyone to see with no care about who says what and when. And yet, writing a solitary “Hi, I missed this” blog post has been haunting me for months.
Where do I start?
As you know, I spent a solid chunk of 2024 being pregnant. On December 18, 2024 (1 full week late), I gave birth to my daughter, Willow, a little after midnight. 10/10 recommend giving birth after visiting hours so that you have a lot of time before everyone can see your tiny babe (or ban everyone from the hospital, if that’s your jam). Coming up with a name was a wild ride because everyone had opinions.
Actually.
That’s what I want to talk about.
Everyone’s damn opinions.
Here we go.
Did you know that when you get pregnant, everyone is going to tell you every single thought that comes to their tiny little pea brains? You will get comments about your size (“looks like you’re eating for two!” or “are you sure you’re still pregnant?”), your looks (“I can tell you’re having a girl because girls steal your beauty”), your activity level (“When I was pregnant, I was still running everyday and even did a 5k!” or “You shouldn’t be walking that much! When you’re pregnant, you should really just be relaxing”), what you’re eating (“Are you sure you’re allowed to eat that?”), what you’re drinking (“a little bit of wine won’t KILL the baby”), your birth plan (“you’re going to a hospital?? I gave birth in a pool in my home and everyone else should too” or “you’re doing a home birth?! You HAVE to be in a hospital! What if something goes wrong?” or “getting an epidural isn’t a NATURAL birth”), if you (the birthing parent) plan to go back to work (“If you’re not a stay at home parent, you’ll never have a bond with your child” or “Staying at home is SO EASY and lazy! Get a job.”), child care (“Daycares are cesspools and babies die at them all the time because they’re not trained!” or “Wow, you’re SO spoiled you have your parents in the area. IT MUST BE NICE.”), if you plan on breastfeeding or not (“BREAST is BEST, plus you’re condemning your child to heart disease and obesity!”) … You get the picture. That’s not even counting the “JUST YOU WAIT” crowd. I would love to take the “just you wait” people and throw them all in a room together so they can “just you wait” each other until they all collapse and the last person standing yells “JUST YOU WAIT” out into the universe before breathing their last breath.
No seriously.
My official favorite “Just you wait” were the men who told me “You think you’re tired now? Just you wait until she’s here!”
I say men because no woman ever said that to me and I realize why now. Because end of 3rd trimester sleep doesn’t exist. Willow was 1 week overdue and around week 39, I started just… not sleeping. I was up several times to pee and when I did lay down, my heartburn filled up my throat like lava bubbling out of a volcano. If I was lucky, I would get 30 minutes of sleep between pee sessions but most of the time, it was just an exercise in closing my eyes and wishing something could help my heartburn (absolutely nothing did and it didn’t matter what I ate). Once Willow was out in the world instead of in my tummy, the need to pee every 30 minutes dissipated and my heartburn were both gone. Just like magic. While other super fun feeling things were still happening in my body, these were not two of them. All the lack of sleep caught up to me and sleeping/naps were easy peasy because I was instantly asleep as soon as my head hit a pillow.
You will get so much unsolicited advice, judgements, and comments. It will be overwhelming and it will be daunting and you’ll want to punch several people in the face.
Opinions man.
They’re like assholes.
Everyone has one.
Writes with Wolves 