Anonymous Mom is a weekly column of motherhood confessions, indiscretions, and parental shortcomings selected by Mommyish editors. Under this unanimous byline, readers can share their own stories, secrets, and moments of weakness with complete anonymity.
It is easy for me to unfriend the middle school buddy who feels compelled to share her exact amount of dilation, nature of bowel movements and intimate descriptions of all interrelated side effects on her status feed. Really easy. Buh-bye overshare. What is tougher, is feeling deeply compelled to share what is going on in my pregnancy, which to me feels largely like a strange science experiment gone horribly awry.
Who on earth wants to hear this bullshit? –I keep asking myself. And the truth is, no one really does, not really, except maybe the women who troll these sites for birth control fodder (which I totally understand), but then…the information never gets out to those of us who really need to hear it.
We never get fully warned. No one really gets into the fun little details, do they? They just say having a baby “changes everything”— to which I say “Well, no shit, all I have to do is pull up the health plan premium sheet on the company share-drive to know that I lose 200 bucks a month from the vodka-fund for my bundle of joy.” How is that wisdom?
I want specifics, concrete information. Ok, what else? Daycare, sure. Another hit to the booze fund. What else? Stretch marks, right? Those must suck. Don’t they have a cream for that? And for me, this is where the pre-baby info drops off a cliff. Nada. Just a bouncing baby and hope for the best. Excellent. Like rolling chicken bones to make a decision on whether to have a kid—a great plan.
So, being a Millennial, I turn to my community online. I turn to Facebook. In fact, I will let the motivated among you do a little research if you are curious—my state has the highest population use of Facebook than any other state in the country. We love our status updates.
Armed with this, I begin to think about what would I post to Facebook, to warn those who come after me, the women en masse thinking about a baby, the women who have no idea they are about to see two pink lines, the ones who don’t realize that that will be their last daiquiri for almost a goddamn year. What would I tell them? I wouldn’t screw around with this “everything changes” garbage, that’s for damn sure. I would keep it real and tell them my experiences. Maybe if every woman did the same thing we would have a more realistic and detailed pool of information. Sales of Depo Provera would soar.
Here is what I would post.