It's Never a Good Time to Get Pregnant

Just returned from Vegas, and what happened there will stay there*, but the conversation I had with my friend Emily before we left, will not.


Emily was pretty pumped for this weekend. It was her little sister’s bachelorette party, and it had been a while since she’d been to Vegas. After we were done discussing our plans (trapeze show at Circus Circus, the $3 sirloin at Binion’s Horseshoe – you know, the classy stuff), talk turned to babies since two of them were making noise in the background on her end.

I asked if she was having a third and she said she thought so. (I guess I’d want to have another one too if I was popping out super-model babies like this.)

But she quickly followed that up with an exasperated sigh and the following proclamation:

“There’s just never a good time to get pregnant!”

Vegas this weekend, a Ladies-Only vaca in June, her sister’s wedding in the Spring…the occasions that called for – nay, demanded – a non-pregnant Emily seemed to stretch endlessly through 2012. There certainly wasn’t a 9-month pocket hiding where she’d etched into her calendar Prop swollen ankles on couch, have hysterical hormonal breakdown over Beverly getting kicked off Top Chef, designate-drive husband and friends to and from bars.

I’m not saying this is what all pregnant women do, or that they can’t have fun. Some women – my mom is one of them – have amazing pregnancies and say they never felt better in their lives than when they were pregnant. There’s even an urban legend that some remarkable ladies can enjoy the company of others while sober.

But imagine some of your upcoming events sans alcohol, caffeine and/or a svelt figure:

  • That shower curtain ring sales conference for work, where you’ll need no less than an army tank of Starbucks’ Sumatra blend to survive
  • The 10-year high school reunion where you must either not be pregnant at all, or be so obviously pregnant that no one mistakes you for just getting super fat since graduation. Like that cow Teresa Jones.**
  • Being nine months pregnant in Texas in August. Nuff said.
  • The bachelorette party that requires enough vodka (exact quantity unknown) to make it okay that you’re wearing stuff like this. Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeah, that’s me I guess.  ↓

That ain’t all

You can’t swing a dead cat without hitting some soiree for which it’s going to suck to be pregnant. But if you do bite the bullet and find a good slot, the distressing news is that it’s not over in nine months! Unless you have unlimited babysitter funds or grandparents nearby, you don’t just need a clear three-quarters of a year. You need a clear rest-of-your-life.

Let’s not panic yet

For those of you holding off on the baby bandwagon until later, the situation may rectify itself. The Singles herd is thinning. Unless there’s a massive swell of Marriage #2 related debauchery on the horizon, the number of weddings and raucous bachelorette parties will eventually die out. Your friends will stop switching apartments every year and a half and there’ll be fewer and fewer housewarming (or their rowdier cousin, housecooling) parties. Nearly everyone you know will start having babies and stop dragging you out to the bars. Hangovers will become increasingly unbearable with age*** and we’ll have to – gasp! – settle down.

And maybe that’s okay. Who says you always have to stay till the end of the party, till last call, till the lights come on? We all know that’s the most frightening moment anyways. Perhaps it’s better to go out on top ala Seinfeld and not hang on till the bitter end. Or perhaps these are just the ramblings of a girl suffering from post-Vegas exhaustion.

What do you guys think – is there EVER a good time to get pregnant?

*Okay, this won’t stay in Vegas: I woke up this morning with this super-classy Girls Night Out + martini glass tattoo. It’s in that exact location where I can’t reach it in the shower so I haven’t been able to figure out if this is fake or not. This looks fake, right?!

**All names have been changed and any resemblance real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. No cows were emotionally scarred in the typing of this post.

***For any of you who may also have gone to Vegas this weekend, here’s 13 natural hangover cures.

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