Men and Pregnancy

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As I near the end of my second pregnancy, I realize more than ever that men have absolutely no idea what women go through when we’re pregnant.  Sure, they can be sympathetic and understanding – to an extent.  But, no matter how hard they try, a man simply cannot know what it’s like to have their body taken over completely for forty weeks (or forty-two for some poor gals).

Sometimes, this isn’t such a bad thing.  There are tons of women who love pregnancy, who really value the time that their child is growing inside of them, and who experience a deep bonding with their unborn child.  I am not one of those women.  Although I love the kid once it’s out of me, those forty weeks are spent counting down the days until I can walk without feeling like I have a bowling ball sitting on my delicate parts and eat a sandwich without fear of a bacteria worming its way into my fragile baby’s body.

My husband does understand how much I miss things like sushi and cold cuts (mainly because if I’m going to be deprived, so is he), but he cannot fully comprehend things such as why getting off the couch by myself is near impossible at this late stage of pregnancy.  I’ve tried to help him with the knowledge gap by encouraging him to wear a backpack laden with weights on his stomach, but he refuses.  I also try to help him feel the sleep deprivation that I am already experiencing by starting up conversations in the middle of the night (such as “Do you really think we should have tacos for dinner tomorrow night?”) 

After all, having these children was a joint decision.  Caring for these children is a joint task.  Why shouldn’t be growing them also be a shared experience? 

If only I could figure out a way for him to “try out” stretch marks, sore, leaky boobs and hemorrhoids.  

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