and how to not respond like a judgey asshole.
We have to have a talk, guys. Humans are jerks. Yeah, I’m probably talking to you. You speak before thinking. You are coarse and hurt feelings, intentionally or not. You think that when you believe something to be true, everyone should believe that thing to be true. YEAH, YOU!
When it comes to babies, I’ve learned that the sanctimony is heavy and smells like shit (but not newborn shit, like full-grown nasty toddler shit). When the next person tells you that they’re knocked up, planned or surprise, take a minute before you spew your careless opinions on the hormonal human who likes you enough to trust you with some very important information about their future and be sweet, dammit.
Response # 1: *whispers* They’re not even MARRIED
Trust me, I know. You’re the ones I worried most about for the first 9 weeks, when I should have been celebrating the HUMAN BEING I JUST CREATED. I sure do know what the Bible says about this sort of thing and thanks to my heightened senses, I can smell your disappointment from here. I appreciate your concern for my soul and all, I do, but I’m good. I know that this is very hard for you to hear because your faith is very important to you, but I don’t believe the same things that you do, and it’s okay. I am good and kind and I am going to work really hard to make sure my kid is good and kind because that is what’s right, not because the Bible tells me so. My soul is happy and while you may think that I have let you or your God down by taking a couple of steps out of order, I’m not asking for your opinion. I’m asking for your support because I’m about to do the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but I’m not asking for your opinion. Love me, pray for me, if you like, but please don’t judge me for this wonderful, amazing thing that is happening.
Response #2: Have you considered *ALL* of your options
I UNDERSTAND WHAT YOU’RE GETTING AT AND NOT ONLY DOES IT SUCK BUT SO DO YOU.
I made the mistake of trusting you with the secret of the biggest decision of my life earlier than I should have. My mistake. I’m scared and worried and excited and just dying to tell someone this life-changing news and I picked you. I’m a grown-up and a smart one at that, what makes you think that I’ve not considered my ‘options’? Not so subtly implying that I am not capable or do not have the resources to care for this thing that I’ve created is impossibly careless. Even more than that, assuming that I’m not intelligent enough to think this through and come to a decision I’m comfortable with before telling you, is downright insulting. I am asking for your support because I’m about to do the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but I am not asking for your opinion. Forget what I said about being good and kind, I am considering never speaking to you again.
Response #3: You think THIS is bad? Oh just wait
Yes, I do think I’m tired now. Yes, I’m sure it gets worse. Yes, I realize that labor will be hours of awful and then I’ll be up in the middle of the night, feeding, changing, cuddling, etc. right now, I’m so tired that I’d like to slap some common sense and empathy into you, but it seems way too hard. I throw up after I brush my teeth every morning, I fall asleep before 8:00 PM most nights, I lost my taste for coffee and I’m freaking miserable about it. I’m sure it gets worse, but shut up and just let me feel lousy instead of feeling guilty about feeling lousy because I’m allegedly going to feel even lousier in 3 months, 8 months, 1 year, until I’m 45, whatever. Be kind and remember that the same hormones making my body revolt also make me cry over the dishwasher being full
PRO TIP: DON’T MAKE THE PREGNANT LADY CRY, IT IS THE RUDEST THING.
Response #4: HOLY SHIT CONGRATULATIONS
Most importantly, most of you said this and my goodness, thank you for it! These were exactly my sentiments and exactly what I needed you to say. Thank you for being sweet and supportive and helping me to carry this really weird weight that is suddenly on my back. I needed you.