You don’t have to love the baby yet
I’ve seen approximately 47 movies and TV shows where a pregnant woman offers her own life to save that of her unborn baby because the love she has for her child is already that powerful. Her husband tearfully begs her to reconsider, and the medical team will inevitably figure out a way to save them both but it’s touch-and-go for a while there.
Apparently, women must feel a spiritual connection to this little creature before the two of them have even met. Which can make you feel like a heartless shell of a human when you look down at your undulating gut and feel … nothing.
You’ve heard the heartbeat, and that was great and all, but you didn’t feel the waves of emotion so many other women seem to feel.
You’ve bought the teeny-tiny onesies and itty-bitty baby socks, and your heart didn’t explode even a little bit.
Breathless women beseech you to tell them how EXCITED YOU ARE and you smile and nod and promise them you are over the moon. You wouldn’t want to let them down.
Just quietly, you’re completely nonplussed about the whole thing, and every time you see a leg jut out from your abdomen, you think, ‘Oh hey there, you. Would you mind not?’
You’re like flatmates, sharing the same space but not necessarily eager to spend the rest of your lives together. You don’t really know anything about each other yet. I mean, you know she likes to drink her own piss, she’s about the size of a papaya, and she’s got a good stretching routine going on every day at 4 a.m., but apart from that you’re strangers.
It’s okay. You don’t have to lay down your life if you don’t want to. Sharing a blood supply doesn’t make everyone woozy with joy. Sometimes you need to meet face-to-face before you realise you’re soulmates.