Only One?

I only want one child.

Yep, you read that right! Only one.

The response this gets me when people ask how many children we plan on having is absurd. Plain fucking absurd.

I've been told the following when people learn I only want one child:

• You're being selfish.
• Oh, I'm being selfish? No, I think it's selfish to push your negative, asinine beliefs on me, and if you're so concerned with my child not having enough playmates, why don't you pop out a few? Not that I'd let me kid hang around with the offspring of such a pretentious asshole.
• You'll change your mind.
• People think Jordan and I changed our mind about having a kid in the first place as I had always said I didn't want any. No, the truth to that is I simply told people we didn't want to have kids so they'd stop fucking asking when we were going to have kids. It's like the second you have a ring on your finger, you serve no greater purpose than to procreate. Okay. 
• However, this is not something I am making up to shut people up. It's a simple concept. A simple statement. A simple idea. Say it with me: "I am only having one child". There, doesn't that feel better?
• Your child needs siblings.
• My child will need a lot of things, but a sibling (or two) is not one of them. He'll need to eat, he'll need to sleep, he'll need love, encouragement and support from his family and friends. He does not, however, need a sibling. 
• He'll be lonely.
• Listen, I have enough personality (however annoying) for about 50 people. If anything, I think my child will have a constant need to be by himself if he has to spend any great amount of time with me. Which he will, as I am awesome. Also, there's this weird thing called friends. I'm sure he'll make some in daycare, and then in school, and then at his first job, etc. I might even let them come to our house. Imagine that. 

In a nutshell, Jordan and I (y'know, the ones who have to raise and support this child) are completely comfortable with the idea of having one child. And as it's our choice, you don't have to agree with it, but you can keep your opinions to yourself. What a novel idea, huh?

Preparation

I've started prenatal classes. Three down so far.

These classes have made me realize the following:

1) I don't want to push a baby out of anywhere, least of all there.
2) I don't like to watch other women push babies out.
3) I hate people. Okay, to be fair, I realized that a long time ago.

I made Jordan come with me for the first class. I'm sure you can all guess how that went down. First and foremost, he was not allowed to speak. He's very good at embarrassing me. I didn't even let him introduce himself. When the public health nurse asked if he had anything to add to our introduction I gave, I promptly answered, "No". End of story.

After we left the class, his first words were, "I don't know why the fuck I had to go to that."

Ah, ever the supportive partner.

Anyways, the second prenatal class just confirmed that I eat like shit which explains why the cellulite I have on my ass and thighs is now known as celluheavy.

The third class was where we learned about things like dilation, effacing, and general horror. It's where I realized watching someone else give birth is probably about as awful as giving birth yourself, and also where my hatred of people in general really shone through.

"We're going to watch a video of a woman giving birth," says the RN. Oh, great. I almost wish  Jordan was with me - it would have been fun to watch him faint. He's prone to that.

"You can turn your head if you want."

Uh, it's like a car accident. You can't turn away once it starts even though the whole time you're watching you wish someone would pull your eyes out of your head. Forever ingrained in my brain. For eternity. Bless all those OB/GYNs out there who do this shit for a living. I feel like a lot of therapy is involved.

There was a woman in the class who was the support person for another preggo. Claims she is a doula. I say she is a know-it-all, annoying-as-hell, interrupting mouth piece.

I go to these prenatal classes to somewhat prepare myself for the impending doom of birth. I want to listen to the public health nurse who has been a nurse for 20 years. I feel like she knows her shit. If she doesn't, she's been faking it like a pro for all these years and that works for me, too. The doula, though, felt it completely necessary to put her two cents in whenever the nurse would say anything. No, bitch. I didn't come here to listen to your hippy dippy do relaxation methods. I came to hear about the drugs the doctor will give me (GIVE ME ALL OF THEM) when I am screaming in agony while threatening to rip off the very appendage Jordan used to put me in this situation.

So shut up.

Long story short, I'm really hoping for some major scientific and medical breakthroughs in the next 10 weeks that allows for this baby to just magically appear outside of my body. Better yet, make it so that Jordan gives birth.

K thx bye.