Humor in Pregnancy and Parenthood a Necessity!Katlyn Joy | 1, September 2014
When you become pregnant, you are a romantic individual, imagining holding a blissfully asleep wiggling infant with rosy cheeks and breath that smells of sugar. You envision first coos and smiles, giggles and chubby thumbed hugs.
Then reality begins. Perhaps it starts with an acute case of baby blues, accompanied by breast engorgement. For those unaware, this is when you develop a figure not unlike Dolly Parton's with breasts that have the feminine texture of boulders!
You cannot stop crying despite all the joy you knew you were feeling mere hours earlier. Your husband looks overwhelmed beyond anything you've ever seen. In pictures, he most closely resembles a hostage! All that's missing is a copy of today's newspaper.
Now is the time to either embrace the moment for the humor that lies within it, or to let the fears and reality choke out your happiness and render you a teeth-clenching ball of nerves.
There will always be a moment when you have the choice to either laugh and let go, or tighten up and stress out. If you make the latter decision too often, you might find a pattern of despair and discord that follows. If you lighten the mood and embrace the ridiculous moments, you'll find those times transformed into funny memories, and allow yourself a bond between your little family.
People who walk around with gritted teeth and grimaces only find more to be unhappy about. They cannot be convinced to release their grumpiness and surrender even a tiny smile. Those people become avoidable, and always argumentative.
Here are some moments that became very humorous memories in my own life as a parent.
Milk coming in
I read everything before my first baby was born, and I knew to expect my milk to come in within the first few days. Intellectually, I knew what that meant. However, exhausted and sore from an episiotomy that stretched state lines, I stumbled barely awake to the bathroom one morning to see a silhouette that did not even vaguely resemble my own. I cannot express to you how much of a "Did I just awake from cosmetic surgery?" moment this was. Whose body is this?! And then the awareness of the intense discomfort hit me. My breasts were not only huge, they were rock-hard, immovable objects of incredible pain. How in the world was I to nurse my daughter through granite nipples?
Instead of giving way to despair, I laughed and pressed through. Within a day or so, things seemed more or less normal once more.
Most folks I know refer to this rite of passage as an initiation. This is when your infant son pees on you for the first, but, not the last, time. If he manages a perfect arc to catch you in the face, all the more perfect.
I was not all that concerned about that with my first daughter. However, Danika was a different kind of girl. She had a powerful stream of urine herself, and managed to most surprisingly initiate me. I didn't know it was possible. Take my word for it; it is possible!
They LOVE to take their diapers off!
We relish the moments our children do things for the first time. When little Kyle discovered he could remove his own diaper, he was apparently feeling mad with power. In that rush of independence, he wanted my attention immediately. I was in the shower, he in his crib. When I did not appear as he desired, he became the interior decorator of his crib and poo was his medium of choice. I am not exaggerating when I report that when I entered his room, every surface was covered in a stinky layer of excrement. Every inch of the mattress, the head and footboards, every grooved bit of every spindle. And why stop there?! Every inch of himself, from his hair, to his ears, to between his little toes were poopy.
It was only later when a dear friend called and I half-cried and half-laughed a reply to her well-meaning, "How are you? What are you up to?" I said, "I have poo water running down my arms at this moment!" We laughed about that moment for years.
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