Where’s My Back Massage?
By Erin Litteken

For all of those bloated, nauseous, and tired pregnant women out there, listen up, I have news. Apparently, you are not the first uncomfortable pregnant woman in the world, and, hold on to your seats; you will not be the last. I know, I know, it is shocking. But after being informed of this fact several times by both my mother and husband, I am actually starting to believe it.

Maybe I'm overreacting. Maybe I'm melodramatic. I have been accused of both in the past. And yes, I do realize my husband and I did not invent procreation. But the fact of the matter is, when you are growing another person inside of you (six billionth child in the world or not), you want some respect. And a little sympathy and understanding wouldn't be out of order either. It is hard work creating and growing a life and I just want to make sure I'm getting the credit I'm due. So when I call my mom to relay to her every ache and pain I experience, I don't want to hear,

"You know Erin, millions of women had babies before you and millions of women will have babies after you."

The nerve! So maybe she had two gigantic babies without drugs (I was 9 lbs. 2oz. and my brother 10 lbs. 3 oz.). Maybe she did all that on a very petite body frame. And maybe, as I've so often been told, she didn't even make a sound as she bore these two watermelon-sized children from her narrow pelvis. But come on! She's my mom! She is supposed to nurture, console and make it all better. If I can't turn to her for sympathy, then to whom can I turn?