A friend and I discussed doing something for them, something to celebrate their successful execution of a pregnancy pact. Then, that friend got knocked up. So, if you are keeping count, that is four ladies who are pregnant.
So, I planned a little party and we invited some friends and holy crap batman, turns out they were all pregnant also. Ten pregnant women were going to be in my house at one time. That’s more than were in my birthing class at the hospital. More than were in the maternity ward the night I gave birth to Ellis.
And all of this totally made me rethink how you actually get pregnant. I mean, I know science and all of that, but anecdotal evidence proves all you have to do to get pregnant in Iowa is be my friend. Perhaps being in the land of fertile farm land also means fertile uteri (that’s the correct Latin, hoz!). Or perhaps the hot tub rumor is real.
I told Dave that there were going to be 10 pregnant women in our house and his eyes got wide and he said, “Can you pick up some scotch guard?”
“David, seriously!” I rolled my eyes. ‘No one is going to leak amniotic fluid on your couch.”
“Wait, what games do you have planned? Because I know I’m cheap and all, but I’d be willing to get a trampoline for a shower game and we can see who goes into labor first.”
“Yeah, because that’s science.”
“Perhaps you should have an ambulance standing by?”
All in all, nine pregnant women showed up. And while I contemplated handing out condoms at the door and playing a little game I like to call, “Here is how you put in an IUD,” I just had some wine and some crafts and we ate cake and feasted like pregnant ladies. Even those of us who were not so pregnant.
Here is how you properly fête nine pregnant women:
- Buy donettes
- Make sure they all take a little something home. I had guests bring onesies, bibs and burp rags and we decorated them with iron-on designs. I kind of hate crafts, so this was really low-intensity and I had all the necessary supplies. Also, everyone got to take a little something home.
- No games. No pregnant lady wants to talk about her stomach circumference or eat baby food. Not to mention 9 pregnant women. So, to avoid a pregnant coup d’etat I avoided games. And guess what, turns out if you have enough cake and jelly beans, everyone stays happy.
- Wine. I greeted everyone at the door by saying, “I have lemon punch, mint-infused water or a white wine spritzer, I’M NOT GONNA JUDGE!” (I wouldn’t. Honestly.) Despite my exhortations, I think all the pregnant ladies stayed clean on the punch and the water. The wine was pretty necessary for us non pregnant ladies. I mean, just the sight of that much fruitfulness-and-multiplying, made me need a stiff drink.
And now, I need a nap. I’m pretty sure coming into contact with that many pregnant bellies means that in a month I’ll be announcing my pregnancy with quintuplets.
Thanks to Mel for a lot of the pictures. I completely forgot to snap some and Mel is basically an amazing photographer. And the pictures that aren’t amazing are the ones I took. And Mel is like a million months pregnant.
Also, BABIES FOR EVERYONE!!