There is No “ME” in UterUS: A Tale of Uterine Envy

by Jamie Grayson

There are many reasons I’m jealous of women.

You can wear more clothing that shows skin in the summer and it’s still appropriate.

As long as you don’t look like a damn clown, you’re able to wear makeup to cover blemishes.

You can blame mood swings on an “Aunt Flo.”. Who the hell is she?  Why don’t I have one and why doesnt she send me birthday cards???

You can carry a child.

The other day I was on a train and a pregnant lady sat across from me.  She was wearing a skirt and tank top, so she looked like many other pregnant women I see on the train. As a matter of fact, she looked like many men I see on the subway. It’s New York. Expect the unexpected.  But then, she changed.

She moved her hands over her stomach and immediately started glowing. I shit you not. It was as if a connection had been made that no science or religion could argue about.

She is a mother.

I sat on that train trying not to cry.  Sometimes I get emotional while working with clients. The first time I see a new baby I’m usually a wreck. But that’s ok in that situation. Crying on the subway, not so much.  It has been a nutty few months and I’m just a little bit more susceptible to my feelings right now.

I realized a long time ago that I physically couldn’t carry a child. I know, it’s a shocker.  I feel completely blessed to be able to work with and around expectant and new parents daily. The greatest honor of my life was being able to spend six months in Minneapolis with my family and those two nuggets I’m obsessed with, as well as being my sister’s labor doula.  It was life-changing.

When female friends complain about something, I often respond with:    “Yeah. But I can’t get pregnant.”

I know it sounds ridiculous, but I mean every single word.

I know women have to deal with many things I’ll never understand:  training bras, heels, haircuts that cost too much, highlights, menopause…the list could go on and on. However, you’ve also the ultimate blessing:  you can carry life.

I know all women cannot do this, and my heart goes out to them. That’s a topic that deserves an entire post on another site.

This goes out to the guys.

I’ve not met many guys who feel this way, so I definitely feel as if I’m in the minority.  Most guys I work with or meet are actually ecstatic that they’ll never be pregnant. I honestly cannot say I blame them for feeling that way, but I’m wired differently.  I dont know when these feelings started. Was it the birth education center?  Maybe. Was it working with my clients?  Mayhaps. I do know that one item I hold near and dear is a video of my sister, Jennifer, and I walking into the delivery room after my sister Olivia was born.  I remember sitting outside and hearing her cries for the first time. Walking in that room blew my mind. What my 16 year-old brain could only understand as something growing inside my mom was now here.  I could touch her and hold her and hug her.  For sixteen years she has constantly amazed/bewildered/aggravated/enraged/enlightened me. She’s my rat girl (long story) and always will be  Sixteen years later I’m amazed at what she’s become, and thrilled by what my youngest sister, Elizabeth, continues to be.

I’m starting to ramble.

I’ll never know what it’s like to be that connected to a life. I’ll never know what it’s like to feel someone kick me from inside.  My loins will never produce my offspring. Women always complain about “the curse of Eve.”

What about the Curse of Adam??

 

Jamie Grayson, known as TheBabyGuyNYC, is a nationally-recognized baby gear expert and baby planner, and has been featured on Martha Stewart, Today Show, and several regional news programs.  Traveling the country speaking at expectant parent events and product launches, writing forStrollerTraffic.com as well as other media outlets, and working with expectant families takes up most of his time–although he still makes time for a movie and a cocktail on occasion.  Questions?  He’s always available on Facebook or Twitter.
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