When you find out you are pregnant (especially if it’s the first time), it’s very common to run to the store and purchase every pregnancy book in sight. There is much to choose from; unfortunately, they are filled with advice you can’t really use.
I threw all of mine in the trash, so you’ll have to forgive me; I’m doing this from memory. What I found most annoying was the realization there were so many people in the world that knew more than me. If you feel the same way, welcome to the club: this is the time in your life when even complete strangers have the urge to share their opinion, and you’re the least willing to listen. The books tell you what to eat, when to eat it; they tell you myths (Baby Blues for most women lasts only a few weeks) and outright lies: Morning sickness disappears after the first trimester.
Then they add the disclaimer that every woman is unique, and so is her pregnancy. That is a cop-out if I’ve ever heard one.
Well, thanks. So what they are really saying is: here’s what happens to most women, and it might happen to you, but then, it might not. You may be sick for three months, but maybe you will still be hacking up your lunch when your water breaks. You may start showing during the fourth month, but then, it’s entirely possible that people can’t see the bulge until you’re in month eight. You could develop hyper smell, or you could not. Maybe you will want only sodium-free foods; maybe you are tempted to have a salt lick installed in your bedroom. None of this is helpful to a pregnant woman who wants some answers. When I leave my house in the morning, I might get hit by a bus. Does that mean I should stay at home?
Additional fun is to be had with the “What if” scenarios that apparently are a must for every self respecting pregnancy manual. I remember one book that included one chapter for each month, aptly titled what can go wrong?
Excuse me?
Who thought up that brilliant idea? Look, pregnant women are paranoid by nature; they don’t need any help thinking up disaster scenarios. Think about it: panicking about whether the baby will be normal is something you can do anywhere anytime, it’s the one thing you can still manage even after six weeks on bed rest, when you’re as big as a whale, can’t see your own feet, and are contemplating selling your soul to the devil in exchange for thirty minutes of uninterrupted sleep.
(That thing with the devil doesn’t work, by the way; trust me, I’ve tried)
So why do pregnancy books continue to sell? Is it because everybody believes the hype about manuals being able to answer all questions? Is it because pregnant women get bored? Because, believe me, these nine months are looong, and boredom usually sets in around week seven. Having to pee all the time, not fitting in your normal clothes, and answering that hellish question “Do you have a name yet?” 5000 times all get old rather quickly.
I estimate that every pregnant woman buys an average of 3-4 books, which you have all finished before you’re even in your second trimester. You subsequently leave them lying around for another two months in the vain hope that your husband will read them (he won’t) and then you realize: I’ve spent $60 on something that is absolutely no help whatsoever.
If you are reading this and nodding, put them on EBay immediately, even if you haven’t finished reading yet. Then spend the money on something fun. Buy a body pillow. Buy two. Buy massage oil and tell your husband you will barf in his good shows if he doesn’t use it on you.
