“Don’t do it.”
Her voice is a whisper over the phone.
Someone is probably in the room with her because she sounds afraid of being overheard.
“Don’t do what?” I am confused.
All I asked was how she and the baby are doing now that she’s been home for a few weeks.
“Have a baby. Don’t do it. It’s a trick. One huge conspiracy.”
“I’m telling you, it’s a fucking trick. All of your friends with kids encourage you to do it, tell you how great and rewarding it is. But it’s not true. They just want you to jump into that miserable, sinking ship so that you can drown with them.”
How am I supposed to respond to that?
“You’re just exhausted and have post-baby blues.”
Either she isn’t hearing me or she is simply ignoring my words. She continues whispering.
“It has to be a conspiracy because they all know awful it really is before you do it. They only tell you the fucking truth after its too late.”
Hormones, exhaustion and the weight of new mommy responsibilities all rolled up in one are taking their toll. She needs to vent to someone outside her family, someone who isn’t going to judge her for feeling unmommy-like.
Strangely enough, it isn’t the first time I’ve heard that theory from a few women in my entourage.
Is she right? Is there some kind of conspiracy going on?
As I slide my hand across my secretly growing belly, I’m no longer sure I want to put that theory to the test all by myself.
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©2016 Marquessa Matthews. All Rights Reserved.
Originally posted on February 4, 2016
This fiction inspired by this article.