This week in YOUR BABY IS GOING TO DIE NEWS. No fewer than three people have told me horror stories about someone they know (friend-of-a-friend, neighbor, coworker) losing their unborn child at 5 months, 7 months, 39 weeks. With the really awesome clarification of "No one knows why!" "They don't know what happened."
Wow. Thanks.
The best part was every single time said storyteller would say "I shouldn't be telling you this" and then continued to horrify me with stories.
Friends, countrymen, asshats - please don't tell horror stories to first-time pregos. We are all too aware that shit happens, complications arise and that life can really be a fucking dick sometimes. But hearing it and instinctively going to the "Please please please don't let that happen to me" place in your mind IS NOT GOOD FOR THE BABY. Or the Mom. Or the Husband/Partner that has to talk to his significant other off the ledge of I AM GOING TO KILL OUR BABY.
We're bombarded with don't eat bacon! don't drink wine! don't eat deli meat! don't sleep on your back! And a whole host of other don'ts that are often presented as YOU WILL HAVE A BROKEN BABY IF YOU DO THIS. Look, none of us wants a broken baby or a sick baby or a baby with hooves - unless the father is a centaur. And trust me when I tell you that simple things like rolling over on your stomach in the middle of the night, an errant piece of bleu cheese, the meat sweats all trigger the ohmygod-will-my-baby-grow-up-to-be-miley-cyrus-now reaction. And I think we can all agree - no one wants to feel that way. So thank you for keeping your dead baby stories to yourself.
And pass the bacon... that shit is delicious.
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