Watching Your Wife Go Through Pregnancy

I was somewhere around 13 years old when i casually walked by my sister’s room and overheard the serious discussion my mother was having with her about Periods. She was maybe 10 or 11 and my mother was giving her the heads up. I myself had sort of heard of them, but my knowledge of exactly what the whole thing was about was sketchy at best. I stood quietly outside the door where they couldn’t see me and listened in.

I walked away stunned.

I knew they were supposed to be not fun, but outright pain? Bleeding? For 3-5 DAYS? EVERY MONTH???!!!!????? HOLY S***!!!! HOW the **** did women DEAL with this?!?!?

It was then that i realized women bear a burden, something way beyond what i had ever imagined. My manly burdens at the time mostly consisted of trying to avoid getting kicked in the balls and accidentally catching my manhood in my zipper (which well into my 20s i often bragged had not only never happened to me, but i couldn’t understand how any dude could be such a raging retard that they could actually do it. Then one night i had a little incident and that’s the last i’ve ever brought up that topic again).

When you’re a kid, avoiding impact with your balls is tougher then you think. Ask any guy when he got the most ball slams in his life, and it’s always during childhood. After the onslaught of adolescence it just doesn’t occur with anywhere near the same frequency.

But periods! Holy bejeezus! This was a different universe! I had no IDEA. What a crappy break…

I gained a certain respect for women that day that has always stayed with me.

Fast forward 20 years. I ‘ve now known many women with varying degrees of intimacy in various types of friendships and relationships. Unlike when i was 13, they are no longer a foreign element, and there is no big mystery to unveil. I still think periods are a major pain in the ass, but nowadays for more selfish reasons. I didn’t think there were any new big surprises waiting for me on the gender front.

I was SO wrong.

I have watched my wife go through 9 months of pregnancy, and sit here with her now in anticipation of the Day Of Exodus, when my little Moses (NOT his actual name) parts the Red Sea and comes forth unto the Land of Canaan, and while i knew in general what this whole pregnancy thing entailed, actually watching it up close and personal has far surpassed that shocking day when i was 13.

I’m not even saying it’s all bad. Some of it is is incredible. Maja’s relationship with it is entirely different then mine. I visit it. I go over to Maja and talk to the baby inside her belly. She is simply always with it, and has commented many times that during most of pregnancy she hasn’t actually thought of it as a separate entity.

I have watched the morning sickness, the fatigue, i have fetched kiwi by the bucketful, watched the tummy grow, brought untold glasses of lemon water, driven her to countless doctors’ appointments and watched her leave the house to go to her birthing classes. These 9 months have been a lifetime in and of themselves. I have done everything i could to help her, but for all of it, i still feel in some essential way i simply stand on the sidelines.

She bears the brunt of the burden no question. Hell, most of the pregnancy i get to sit out on my terrace at the end of the night, drink a few beers and smoke a few cigarettes, while she is in bed trying to get comfortable. The list of changes and bizarre things her body has gone through is literally too numerous to count. When the baby kicks her tummy, it looks eXACTLy like the movie Alien. The hormones, the back aches, the preparations for labor, the this, the that…. bloody hell.

Some days when i think about it all, i feel like i’m standing outside that bedroom door with my jaw hanging open. And we haven’t even done LABOR YET. I’m TERRIFIED of labor, and i don’t have to do anything other then get her water, offer some king words of encouragement, and say push at the right time. And since i’m attending labor in foreign country where i don’t speak the LANGUAUGE, i probably won’t even get the whole ‘Push” thing right. The nurse will be telling Maja to “push, this is it, this the moment” while i’m standing there trying to figure out what she’s saying and wondering if it’s important. By the time i figure out what’;s happening Maja will be screaming bloody murder, the baby will be popping out, and the most i’ll manage will be at this prime moment to lean down and say something like “Oh, puuuush! I understand! Tingi, you need to… uh.. okay i see you’re already… uh…. wow, you’re doing great, honey. Keep it up!” Or even worse: “Tingi.. what’s the nurse saying? Is she… wow you’re really screaming…. is this… HOLY CRAP! Damn woman, that has GOT to hurt!”

Watching her go through this has changed my view of her fundamentally, and in a good way. I have a newfound respect for all women in general, but the depth of honor i feel towards my wife is… profound. Reverant. I’ve watched her be herself for years, but now i’ve watched her undergo something so fundamental, so at the core of life itself, i feel like Don Quixote kneeling before Dulcinea.

I’ve also watched her become more maternal, a gradual and subtle process that has occurred over the course of these past 9 months. So much of the burden of life rests of women, i wonder how this whole patriarchal thing got started anyway. (i don’t want a matriarchal society either for the record. Evolution of consciousness and spirituality would be preferred. In loo of that i’d just like people to be less of a dick.)

In the meantime, here at the end of 30s, i stand once again outside the bedroom door of revelation, jaw dropped in awe, and heart filled with love and reverence for my wife, and through her, all women.

Until she nags me to do something i’m not in the mood to do. Then you can pretty much throw this whole diatribe out the window. Grumble grumble.