I’m presently reading Half Baked: The Story of My Nerves, My Newborn, and How We Both Learned to Breathe, by Alexa Stevenson, 2010, Running Press Book Publishers. It’s quite well-written, both as regards bringing forward the aspects of a high-risk pregnancy, and just being enjoyable to read, both from the perspective of a preemie parent and from the perspective of the general public.
In her pregnancy, she suffered preterm labor, broken waters, intractable nausea and vomiting, gestational diabetes, infection, anemia and pubic bone separation… after explaining all that, she writes:
My friend Jenni sent me an email that on each rereading made me laugh, again, at the absurdity of my situation. It was probably the single most helpful piece of mail I received. It was certainly the most apt:
“This is turning into the zombie movie of pregnancies,” she began, “You know how it is, where one by one, the lights go out, and the furnaces click off, and s— continues to go wrong, and pretty soon you’re all ‘remember when we were holed up in the mall, enjoying grim survivalist camaraderie while eating our dinners out of cans? God that was so great. WE STILL HAD FLASHLIGHTS THEN. And no one had eaten Bob.’
Yeah, we’ve had those “can-it-get-any-worse” times. Yes it can.