It has never, ever occurred to me that being pregnant would publicly confirm my bedroom (lounge room/kitchen/dining/bathroom/your lounge room!) activities....
I remember the first time I put two and two together. I was in year three at school and a friend's mum was expecting a baby. I'm not sure if I was particularly curious, or it was simply the fact that my parents never shied away from the mere scientific facts of life, but I was aware of how babies were made. My mum had read me 'Where Do I Come From" so I knew all about babies being made by daddy putting his penis near the mummy's vagina, and then something about little swimming fish and a big egg (that wasn't the same kind of eggs that we ate for breakfast). I had it covered.
But it wasn't just the facts of life that I understood. The penny dropped one day when I realised that Danielle's dad had actually put his penis near her lovely mums vagina and somehow the swimmers had attacked the egg and magically she had a massive tummy. And subsequently, a baby sister! I can't tell you it was welcomed or enjoyable news to me. I was truly disgusted. And as I thought about it a little harder, I also came to the realisation that my own parents had actually undertaken the same process. THREE TIMES!
Of course, I had no idea (nor should I at that age) that mummies and daddies may have actually enjoyed the process of making babies - that it was arguable the most enjoyable thing you could physically do. Nope, I was simply grossed out.
As I grew up and came to accept the reality of life and discovered all new things baby making process, I also accepted that it was a normal thing to partake it when in a relationship. That you would want to do 'it'.
I've blogged before about the assumed mystery of sex and how some people think that their sex is a secret. I've always worked on the assumption that people are generally active in their private spaces unless I'm told otherwise. No big deal, right? I suppose in the same right, I've always assumed that people would consider the same for me. I've been married for 8 years this October, and have been with Greg for 10. Shock horror and surprise surprise.....we have sex!
So I'm just not sure why it took me by surprise the other day when a previous colleague came past my desk, realised I am pregnant and announced very loudly to my open-planned office: "Hahaha, I know what you've been up to, you naughty thing!" Nudge nudge, wink wink. Oh. My. God.
It takes a bit to embarrass me - doesn't happen often at all. But when it does, it will be a thorough job, with every part of me from my hair to my nipples turning a bright beetroot red! It is similar to the exercise glow I love so dearly (not), but a deeper and much more severe colour. It alarms others. It embarrasses me further, at which stage I turn from beetroot red to a deep purple you'd think almost impossible for human skin to be.
And this guy at work announcing to the office that I was sexually active with my husband got me. It got me good. All I could do was laugh along with him, and try my best not to pass out from the blood rushing to my face like a freight train.
I consider Greg and I to have a healthy relationship. We argue, we get along, we communicate (most of the time), we have fun, we get the shits with each others, we love each other, and we have sex. I've never hidden any of that from anyone......and I don't actually find it necessary to do so. I'm not at all ashamed or embarrassed that my parents (and my Nana - Hi Nana!) read this blog. My parents are smart people who are intelligent enough to know that their children have sex, and probably even want us to have a healthy relationship which includes all of the above as well. And I will want the same one day from my children too. I don't want my children to ever feel shame for enjoying all a relationship has to offer, including the physical aspect. It's what was intended for us all to discover when the time is right, after all!
But while I'm not ashamed of our sex life, I also don't feel the need to announce it to 10 of my work colleagues. Let them make their own assumptions, if their mind takes them on that path. I can't say it's the first thing I think of when I see a pregnant woman. Maybe I will now. Maybe you all will now!
After my work buddy screamed confirmation of my sex life to the world and my face lit up like a navigation beacon, I realised that it isn't that simply anymore. I realised that the reason it has never occurred to me that being pregnant might automatically equal 'sexy-time' is that sometimes pregnancy can be a result of awful things, like manipulation, violence, rape. And sometimes it can be a scientific miracle found in IVF. Sometimes, more commonly than we might even know, it may be a result of years of tears, trying and trying, and finally succeeding. And it may have become all about the business of trying, not the fun and spur of the moment love making session that we would all have preferred it to be.
For the simplest of all things in life, supposedly the most natural thing to occur ever, I am often left pondering the old story of what's fair and what's not. Because for something that should be a simply task, an accidental 'whoops' in many cases, may seem impossible for others. I'm reminded that the human body isn't as perfect as we first thought. It doesn't behave how it should every time.
Apparently, having children (as many as you want and at the time that you want) isn't a given in life. Its a journey that alludes some, and seems freely given to those who don't want/deserve it. I'm left pondering the lack of 'fair' in the world again, the injustice that is unexplainable.
I write this as my second blessing shoves his/her foot under my right ribs and gives me a regular reminder of the fact that he/she will be in our arms in less than 3 months. And as always, I am reminded daily to be grateful.
But I also write to you as my heart breaks for several people close to me who have been to hell and back in their efforts to have children (first child or additions to their family). I'm not naive, I know I can't understand their road. That I sit in the very position they would kill to be in. I get that.
But I hope they can see that my eyes are open to their pain, and that although I am the lucky one, I hate the injustice just as much as they do. I want for them the same as what they want. It is, of course, easier to be the one in my position. But I am not blind to you. I see and hear you, and I feel some of your pain. I cry my own tears for each and every time it doesn't work out. I don't cry in sympathy, I cry in true grief. I rage against the unfairness of life. It doesn't escape me, even in my position.
And when all seems lost, all I can can offer is hope. Because at the end of the day, I can't offer you relief or understanding of how it feels to be you. I can't offer you the answers you need or the magic to happen. All I can offer is a hope that one day it will work. That one day, despite the odds and the past, it will work.
And if you can't believe anymore and hope itself alludes you, I will secretly hope for you. Because, that is all I can do.
Ciao for now,
LG - Life's Good!
