Living in a Sensitive Age

Early in the pregnancy, we got What to Expect When You're Expecting. I've heard and read some criticism of this book, mainly that it takes some of the joy and mysticism out of pregnancy by trying to scare the crap out of you. I haven't felt that way about it, though I haven't read it as thoroughly as Mrs. Rodius has. I also signed up for "Heidi's Daily Delivery," a daily email that gives you additional tips and information to coincide with where you are in your pregnancy. Because I used my "high likelihood of spam" email address that I only check via a web page, and not one of our personal addresses that gets downloaded to Outlook on our home computer, I'm the only one who sees the emails. I tried to change it later, but whattoexpect.com tells me it's not a registered email address. Yet the emails keep coming. And I'm the only one reading them.

It's kind of fun getting the emails that are intended for a pregnant chick, though. I get tips on how to do my makeup to counterbalance the fact that my cheeks are probably starting to get puffy. I get explanations of why my vision may be getting a bit blurry these days, or how that buzzing sensation in my right butt cheek is probably because the baby's head is pressing against my sciatic nerve. I also get a weekly email that I'm supposed to forward to my "partner."

As someone who is looking forward to taking on a "non-traditional" role, I like that the authors of these kinds of resources are open to the possibility that not all of their readers are a married man and woman. The book, too, tries its best to be inclusive. For the sake of simplicity, it tells us, it uses the word "father" throughout, but if that's not your situation, that's cool too. If you're part of a lesbian couple, or if you're a single mom relying on the support of your family, or whatever your situation might be, just pretend we used a different word when you read those parts.

Despite that, the "for the partner" emails generally conform to a pretty stereotypical view of the father. They generally say, "Hey there, Dad. We know you were mostly in it for the sex, but it's time to get serious because guess what? Sex has consequences. So even though you're scared out of your mind, it's time to step outside of yourself and be aware of Mom. She's probably freaking out, too, and on top of that, some weird stuff is happening to her body. Maybe you could do some housework for once, and give her a massage now and then. You might even get laid!"

Our birthing classes have been kind of like that, too. The teacher always calls us "the partner" and never "the father" or "the husband." I get it, because some of the couples are unmarried. One woman was accompanied by a male partner the first week and a female partner the next. I'm not really sure what her situation is, but there's no reason she has to feel left out because she doesn't have a husband, or because the baby's father is not involved. But still, the tone towards the partners is always sort of patronizing. When addressing us, the partners, the teacher puts her hands on her hips. She tilts her head to one side. She nods a lot. She doesn't seem to think we're very bright, or involved. We have to be prodded off the couch, where we're probably watching football, and enticed into the supporting role with hints of the sexual favors to come and reminders that we did this to them in the first place.

Well not me, lady! I'm here, and I'm ready. I'm nervous, especially for her and what she'll have to go through. We tend to make 'em big in my family, and it could be pretty hard on her. If she does need a C-section, I'm not really confident I won't faint. I tried to watch a doctor put stitches in my hand once, and I came perilously close to unconsciousness. But I'm willing to give it the old college try! I want to give back rubs, and count, and tell her how well she's doing. I'm ready to be on my knees for hours, or be leaned on or yelled at, or otherwise engage in non-ergonomic activities if I can help carry some portion of the burden for her. Bring it on! I just can't promise I'll stay upright if I lay eyes on her intestines.