Friday, October 10, 2008

Smelly Hippies: Hating You

Oh, please cast your eyes across the announcement I got not one, but twice, from my local organic baby store.

This place is a great place to buy stuff, especially fancy organic baby stuff, but they've proven over the past months to have a seriously mentally-differently-abled staff. One gal told me they offered no prenatal classes at all. Another spent 20 minutes trying to demonstrate a simple unfold function on a stroller, nearly getting devoured, Lucille Ball-style, by the unruly contraption. But this really takes le cake:

How to have a Healing Pregnancy
We used to believe that a baby's time in the womb was blissfully peaceful - safe and protected from the influences of the outside world. We now know that everything a mother thinks and feels as well as what she eats, drinks and breathes affects the child growing inside her. In this seminar you will explore ways you can go back into your own beginnings, discover exactly what feelings, thoughts and environmental influences were operating and release any unconscious anxiety and frustration held in your body ready to be triggered by the pregnancy.

Please explain to me: Who are these cruel, fucked-up bitches? Seriously. It's not enough that every bite I put in my mouth is scrutinized (seriously, people, the coffee-miscarriage connection was only valid for women drinking more than six cups per day, so back the fuck OFF). Now, I have to worry that when I get weepy over memories, I'm screwing up my child's life -- while simultaneously looking back at my mom's pregnancy, some 40 years ago, and blaming that 29-year-old woman for my current problems?

(Seriously, people, if you want to blame my mom, there's plenty she did in the interim. We don't have to get all fucking woo-woo over the fact that she was protesting the Vietnam War and arguing about Barry Goldwater while I was in utero. I'm sure she'd agree!)

You know what? I am in no doubt that my pregnancy is triggering anxiety and frustration. I know for a FACT that I am feeling anxious, frustrated, and pretty depressed at the moment. So, you know, a nice SOOTHING description of the class would be nice.

But couching it in guilt-inducing, blame-the-mommy-and-the-mommy's-mommy terms like this? That's just shitty and rude. And my baby thinks so, too.

We're driving by later to hurl granola at the windows.

Postscript: my awesome gyno just called to say I have to do another test. Since it involves sitting around for three hours, she said, "Ya know, you just stroll up the street, go to the [name of this store]. I'm all, "No friggin WAY, those crunchy hippies are working my nerves right now," and told her why. And she laughs and we discuss the rest of my lab results and then, right before she gets off the phone, she goes, "So you're physically fine, but DON'T LET THOSE EMOTIONS HURT YOUR BABY!"

That's I love her.

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