I am a big time rule-follower; always have been, always will be. I am the girl who tries to sign in under a friend's name at the pool and my face turns so bright red that I can't meet eyes with the people at the front desk. These days, I will take a bite of an Italian sub, chew it up just to enjoy that one second of flavor, and then spit it out because I am told that you are not allowed to eat lunchmeat when pregnant. I am also far more intimidated by my kid's pre-school teacher than I'm sure any of those 4-year-olds are. The point is: I just don't feel comfortable messing with the rule book, regardless of who makes those rules.
So I would really appreciate it if, each time I get pregnant with another kid, the mysterious "THEY" could stop adding 15 new regulations and guidelines to make my life so thoroughly miserable for 9 solid months.
What's this about how I'm not allowed to sleep on my right side this go-around?? It was hard enough for me to adjust to not sleeping on my back with the first two; now I'm not even allowed to roll over? I'm not sure if it's just the fact that I have been told I can't, or if I am really this tortured by the way I wake up 4 times a night with the urge to flop onto my other side and suddenly remember that I am undoubtedly going to rupture some crucial artery by doing that.
My better judgement keeps telling me that the thousands of generations of women in the past did just fine without the right side artery crushing sleep rule, but I am not one to test those waters-- after all, rules are rules.
And now that I'm at a point in my pregnancy where I can't comfortably bend over or squat for more than 5 seconds, they have conveniently decided to come out with a study on the dangers of kids' spray-on sunscreen. Of course they did! Why would I be able to apply sunscreen in an easy, no-fuss- kind-of-way that kept my varicose veins from bursting out of my legs? That would be absurd.
The drop side crib I used just 2 years ago? It's in the trash. Not allowed.
Bug spray? Don't you preggo ladies dare. You can sit inside or be eaten by the West Nile spreading monsters of the back porch.
Oh, and apparently, even after what I thought was some pretty thorough research on which fish I needed to stay away from (swordfish, shark, tuna only allowed in moderation), I just found out that I shouldn't have eaten those crabs over the weekend or the shrimp I've been serving for dinner just about every other week for the last six months.
And I certainly hope you don't get a sore throat. Because after I popped about 6 of those Ricola herbal throat drops, I found out that they will most certainly cause me to miscarry. Thankfully, that was about 4 months ago, so I must have been one of the lucky ones.
Is there a certain point where I am allowed to say "no" to all of the so-called expert advice? Where I get to say "If I can't have a beer at a BBQ, I'm going to savor every last sip of an ice-cold coke and not feel guilty about it."
Well, if there is, who am I kidding? I'm too much of a worry wart to torture myself wondering what terrible fate awaits every time I defy the pregnancy commandments. So I will stick it out and play it safe for these last 3 months-- but someone had better bring me a knock-your-socks-off cold cut and a thoroughly chilled Blue Moon right up to my hospital bed on this little guy's birthday ;)