What to expect when you are not expecting

WHAT TO EXPECT WHEN
YOU ARE NOT EXPECTING

By Sala Elise Patterson

In the last three years, each of my closest girlfriends - with the exception of one professional dancer - has had her first baby. Michelle, the trailblazer, announced her pregnancy on a girly weekend four of us had planned to Amsterdam. The first night, she comes out of her bedroom with her hands behind her back. "I have something to share," she says, and we're thinking something along the lines of duty-free cigarettes. She then hands us each a copy of what after a moment of contemplation we realize is a sonogram. Whoa. Pregnancy? Babies? Parenting? Whooooaaaaaa. I certainly hadn't thought of having children yet, and by the looks on Brenda and Charlie's faces, neither had they. But sure enough, Brenda was pregnant in three months and Charlie was on the warpath. And then Andrea, my college roommate, Christine, my oldest friend in the world and finally Tracy, my New York running mate, perennial swinging single, all went the way of the mommy.

Of course, I had some broody moments. Who wouldn't, surrounded by all of that life in progress (not to mention the kick-ass patina all of my friends took on at conception)? But one glimpse of my well-worn passport and my account balance and I thought, "Not quite yet." So I contented myself to join in the crash course of motherhood from the sidelines. It started with Brenda. The day she found out she was pregnant she called me from her house in Rome in a panic. "Getting knocked up was easy. Now I need reading material!" I sent her a copy of What to Expect When You're Expecting and inscribed it: "Read every fucking word." Thank God she did. Who knew you had to take folic acid, avoid soft cheese and raw fish, or keep pets outside the house? Who knew you needed to put stretch mark cream on before you got the stretch marks? I took mad notes: Folic acid, soft cheese, sushi, cats, dogs, moisturize.

As the months passed I listened in amazement as my girlfriends described new bodily functions, mood swings, sex at eight months and doulas aka a birthing coach. I visited Michelle just after her baby was born and in her bathroom I saw a small bottle with "Perineum" written on it. Before I smeared it on my face, I asked her what it was for. She explained where the perineum was (at which point I put down the bottle) and that applying this oil made it more elastic for childbirth. I think I blacked out around the word "elastic." Andrea only added to my panic when she told me, "Never let them cut you down there. Imagine how much less a T-shirt rips if you just tear it as opposed to cutting it and then tearing it. CUT?!? TEAR?!? Mental note: Consider C-section.

Yes, and what of the birth? Michelle swore it was like striking the right yogic pose: All bliss, head rush and inner peace. She may have made a passing reference to the word pain - maybe. Tracy said that at the peak of labor she started meditating and then the baby just flew out. Flew? I was about to take down that mental note when along came Brenda who was in excruciating labor for like a week and came away swearing that she would never, ever, go through it again. I worried she might swear off sex altogether. All three swore by natural birth, but the results were mixed. With the jury still out, I waited for the others to go. Christine - who eased herself through early labor at a Prince concert - and Andrea both went in open to the natural thing but not ruling out the drugs either. I kind of liked that compromise. I have nothing to prove. Mental note: Consider epidural. And Prince.

Of course the mental note writ largest is that there is nothing I will ever experience - God willing - that will compare to pregnancy and motherhood. Who knows when that will be, but when it happens I'll know just a little bit more about what to do. How it all actually turns out is a different matter altogether.