Nina In New York: Isn't It Romantic?

A lighthearted look at news, events, culture and everyday life in New York. The opinions expressed are solely those of the writer.
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By Nina Pajak

Parenting isn't easy, by any stretch. It's exhausting, frustrating, anxiety-provoking and occasionally demoralizing. Having a child forces you to rip yourself open (literally and metaphorically) and bare your innermost soul in a way that is completely foreign and terrifying and often public. It's an incredibly vital and monumentally important job, but the day-to-day of it is steeped in maddening trivialities. It's given me emotional peaks and valleys so extreme, I feel both fortunate to have experienced them and completely unequipped to manage them.

The point I'm trying to make is, I'm pregnant again. What can I say? We're in this thing for life.

Pregnancy is a very, very lucky state in which to find oneself. I'm painfully aware of the many couples who cannot experience it, or who have experienced it only to have it end in tragedy. I don't take it for granted for one moment, so let's make that perfectly clear. Now, let's be real: pregnancy can also be a real B. It's difficult to sleep. It's stressful worrying about sustaining a fragile life while also living your regular, relatively fragile life, when you also happen to be besieged by unhappy feelings brought on by unpredictable hormone surges. In my case, I have gestational diabetes for the second time, so it's even challenging to eat properly. I'm in a constant state of shuffling childcare in order to attend myriad appointments with a vast array of doctors. I've had so much blood drawn, it's a wonder I have any left. And when you're visibly showing, strangers and acquaintances just start saying the absolute darndest things.

"Your belly is so cute!" (That's nice. I can't tie my shoes and feel like Jabba the Hut after the Hut family's Thanksgiving dinner.)

"Whoa, you got so big!" (Wait, that other lady just told me . . . never mind.)

"Aren't you so happy? You've got that glow!" (That's sweat, but thanks!)

And my all-time favorite: "Enjoy it! I miss being pregnant."

This one really baffled me for a long time. With my first, I thought that maybe after having her I'd understand what people were talking about. But now that I've been on both sides of the equation, I can honestly say I've never felt wistful about pregnancy. I know some people have an easy time of it and report that it makes them feel joyful and healthy, but I don't think those lucky women make up the majority. I've been considering this for a long time, and I think I've finally figured it out.

They don't all necessarily miss being pregnant. They just miss not having that kid.

Don't get me wrong: we all love our children dearly and would endure infinite more discomfort and inconvenience and pain to bring their lives into this world. But I have this sneaking suspicion that most of the people who think they're feeling nostalgic about having their organs squished up inside of one another are actually just romanticizing a time when they could have a drunken, lazy brunch or go on a vacation that actually felt like a vacation. Or, in the case of those who already have a kid, they're thinking way back to when nap time meant nap time for everyone, or to when they could convince a grandparent to babysit, or simply to when they weren't outnumbered. Of course parenthood is all good, and we wouldn't change a thing. But sometimes it's nice to remember that we once thought work made us, like, soooooo tired and we were grossed out by a person sneezing loudly on the subway and we could dine at restaurants that don't have paper placemats without fear of being ostracized from the community. It's all so simple when the baby is contained in that belly. Once he or she comes out . . . well. The term sh**show is given entirely new meaning.

But hey, all you people who get tingly and sentimental when you see a pregnant lady: this should come as good news. Now you don't have to waste any time feeling sad or pining away for the good old days of gestating! Or if you do, now you know to leave the pregnant people out of it. Sorry. We're too busy trying to tamp down the stomach acid rapidly rising up our esophagi while trying to track down a wholesale distributor of post-partum mesh underwear. Now that's romantic.

Nina Pajak is a writer living with her husband, daughter and dog in Queens. Connect with Nina on Twitter!