When Adam and I finally unveiled our pregnancy, we were greeted with a lot of love and support. But, for every congratulatory hug and warm, happy phone call, there was an urgent, whispered aside from someone who had been pregnant before.
In a few short weeks, I heard just about everything--and in graphic detail. Morning sickness and salmonella at the same time. Moms who went into premature labor and didn't realize it. Women who delivered in their bathrooms. Twelve-pound babies who tore their mothers apart on their way into this world. I was horrified.
Adam eventually forbade me from reading pregnancy forums and carefully shielded me from wiser moms who tried to take me aside for a private chat.
I didn't realize that becoming pregnant would grant me membership to the exclusive club of women who have been pregnant. And the initiation ritual is to listen to every other woman's pregnancy horror stories.
Pregnancy is such a strange thing. It's a basic biological function of womankind, but it is still somehow secret, and sacred. And getting pregnant is like becoming part of an intimate sororal group to which any woman can be invited.
Over the past few months, I've come to appreciate that secret sorority and its instant intimacy--warts and all. I appreciate the frankness and openness with which that group of women has greeted me. I've even told a few horror stories of my own to new moms. And, lets face it, I've started a blog about pregnancy with the same basic impulse to share.
The best advice I got from my OBGYN was the first advice they gave me: stay away from the internet, do not google anything, and don't read the pregnancy forums. All those horrible stories will only convince you that you are either dying or have some rare South-American disease common only to tree frogs or something!
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