Saturday, April 11, 2009
Pontifications on pregnancy
One of my best friends from high school just announced she’s pregnant.
Even while I congratulated her on her procreation, I couldn’t help but be horribly creeped out.
It’s not that I’m not happy for her and her spawn, it just gets weirder every time someone I grew up with pops out another member of the generation that will replace us.
There were a few kids in high school who got knocked up then, but that didn’t freak me out. I figured they were just the future Lifetime movies among us.
But as the old gang and I age, the babies change from oddities to necessities. Everyone wants to pass their offspring around and tell you how great motherhood is. My own mother mentions grandchildren at least once a week.
I’m just not ready for a mini-me. For one thing, that’s a lot of responsibility. You can lock a dog in a cage and go shopping, but do the same with a kid and you’re looking at felony charges.
What worries me most is that my progeny and I will have nothing in common. I don’t know what I’d do with a hatchling who didn’t like Metallica or didn’t have winning “Jeopardy” as a life goal. I would feel like one of those cats you see on the news raising an orphaned puppy.
For now, I’ll leave it to others to go forth and multiply. Maybe I’ll beget my own munchkin later, but today I’m just going to stick with reading pregnant friends’ Facebook updates about how very sick they’re feeling, and smiling to myself.
Spawning some of your own? E-mail Strnad at