On Our Love-Hate Relationship with Parenting Books
January 21, 2016 By Yardenne Greenspan
The first thing I did when we found out I was pregnant was go to our local second-hand bookstore and buy a used 2002 edition of What to Expect When You’re Expecting. At the time I’d thought it was because I needed advice. We had decided we weren’t going to tell anyone, not even our parents, until we had our first ultrasound and heard a heartbeat. I had called an obstetrician’s office and announced self-importantly, “I’m pregnant! What do I need to do? Should we schedule a visit? Should I get a blood test?”
“Just come in for an ultrasound when you’re ten weeks along,” the voice on the phone answered blandly.
Ten weeks. Ten weeks was a month away. A month of nothing to do but brainstorm excuses for why I wasn’t drinking as I waited for morning sickness to kick in. No blood tests, no urine tests, no proof of this thing happening inside of me but two peed-on sticks and tender breasts.
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“Just come in for an ultrasound when you’re ten weeks along,” the voice on the phone answered blandly.
Ten weeks. Ten weeks was a month away. A month of nothing to do but brainstorm excuses for why I wasn’t drinking as I waited for morning sickness to kick in. No blood tests, no urine tests, no proof of this thing happening inside of me but two peed-on sticks and tender breasts.
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