Comma Dot Comma

Step 1: Get pregnant.

Step 2: Tell others.

That’s it. You don’t have to be kind, or a good listener, or have interesting thoughts and experiences, or be funny, or pull your weight in the relationship. In fact, by following this 2-step plan I’ve discovered that I can talk about myself and my various bodily functions at length, barely stopping to take a breath, and not only will I not lose my audience, I will get follow-up questions. And gifts! And offers of various kinds of durable goods and household help! I’ve never been this popular in my life. (In fact, I have been known to announce to others, in certain situations, that “it’s not a popularity contest,” the famous fall-back line of the less popular.)

I am most popular with women who have already been pregnant, and at my age and station, that happens to be most of the women that I know. So maybe this 2-step plan works best for women a little beyond their prime procreating years. As one friend said, it’s sort of like joining a sorority. Not that I’d know for sure, having never actually joined one.

Typical conversation:

ME: I heard about your amazing achievement/stunning loss/annoying problem. Tell me more!

WOMAN FRIEND: Oh, that’s not interesting. Let’s hear about YOU. How tight are the waistbands of your pants? I want ALL the details!

So thanks, y’all for welcoming me to the Sisterhood of Babymakers.

Public settings where I have loudly thrown up or retched in the past few months, startling strangers:

1. Doctor’s office #1
2. Acupuncturist’s
3. Target
4. Church
5. Hospital waiting room
6. Doctor’s office #2
7. Chipotle parking lot

For all of these, I have actually made it to a bathroom stall to do the deed, for which I am grateful. Also grateful that none of these have happened yet at school. Pregnancy is full of lessons in humility, especially since I don’t look pregnant yet. To the Phoenix public, I’m just a random, high-volume retcher. I don’t know if a tendency to severe morning sickness is heritable, but my mom experienced such extreme nausea with me, for so many months, that she once apologized for her abundance of negative thoughts while I was in the womb.

The most embarrassing one was the acupuncturist, who specializes in high-risk pregnancy. I went to him once a week back in november and december, and there were always two or three other women there at the same time. After I came out of the bathroom he kindly patted my hand and told me not to worry– he had personally reassured all the other patients that nothing horrible was happening to me; it was just morning sickness. “They were encouraged,” he added. I guess the soothing music he plays in each room wasn’t sufficient to drown me out.