Monday, May 31, 2010
Maybe a Dingo Ate Your Baby
So there I was, on facebook minding my own business (ha!), and BAM. You know what you did. You posted a very inappropriate image on your profile. Your sonogram.
Gross. Ew. Gross.
I turn 27 tomorrow and lots of my "friends" out there are procreating, not that there's anything wrong with that, but do you need to lose your common sense in the process? You're posting a picture of the inside of your UTERUS for all to see.
And that baby that's growing inside there - no matter how many people "like" your picture or comment "how cute!", they're lying. That baby looks like an alien baby bird right now... that's why it's on the inside. Mother Nature is smart enough to keep that baby and all it's tissue, organs, fluid tucked nicely inside that cute little pouch of yours so that people still like you while you're all hormonal and annoying. Just keep in mind the concept of TMI.
Another "friend" wrote something about how she can't believe how much she has to pee. Seriously, that was her status. How about you think about your pregnancy as any other medical condition. Although some people do share the details of their experiences while having the flu, it's generally frowned upon. No one cares about the frequency of your urination except you, your doctor, perhaps your baby daddy, and other pregnant people like you. So, I don't know... like talk amongst yourselves.
It's not like I expect you to censor your facebook for me personally. I, of course, have defriended you or hidden you from my newsfeed, but just think about the identity you're putting out there. And remember the person you were before you got knocked up. You didn't like to see sonograms then, did you? Probs not.
Pictures while you're pregnant, like from your baby shower, totally OK. We like to see how fat you got and whether you're cute pregnant or ugly pregnant. Birthday parties and other milestones your child goes through are also ok, because most little kids are cute and often times it's hysterical to see you in charge of a child when the most important thing in your life used to be whether you were next up on the beer pong table.