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Broke Wife, Big City
If
Schrodinger’s cat was trying to get pregnant
By Aprill Brandon
You guys remember learning about Schrodinger’s cat?
Yeah, me either. I mean, I vaguely recall something about a dead cat in
a box but as for the rest…well, college is a hell of a time, kids.
Luckily, college is pointless now that we have Google and as it turns
out, a quick search unearthed that Schrodinger’s cat is indeed a dead
cat in box that is also simultaneously alive. Due to something,
something, blah, blah, blah, a bunch of smart science junk. But the
point is, the cat is both dead and alive until someone opens the box to
find out.
I bring this up because it is the perfect metaphor for when you are
trying to get pregnant. See, now that our toddler son has gained some
independence and is sleeping like a dead cat in a box through the
night, my husband and I decided we want to ruin our peaceful lives by
starting over with a new needy nipple-shredding newborn. And so every
month, we shed our Snuggies and have really giggly sitcom sex. And then
for a few weeks every month, I’m both possibly pregnant and possibly
not pregnant, with no way of knowing until someone (preferably a doctor
but I’m not picky) checks inside the box.
(Get it? Cause “box” is slang for “vagina”? How have I not won a
Pulitzer yet?).
Yes, for those few weeks, all possibilities are possible. And it’s the
worst. As much as I want another baby, I can officially say that this
is no way to live your life. It’s like being permanently in limbo and
all my time is now spent debating and justifying every choice I make
based on highly limited knowledge.
“Hmm…maybe I shouldn’t drink two pots of coffee this morning. In case
I’m pregnant. Then again, I might not be pregnant and drinking all this
coffee increases the chances I won’t murder someone today.”
“A glass of wine probably won’t hurt even if I am pregnant. Right?”
“I may not be pregnant yet so I can’t justify eating this ENTIRE bag of
Doritos. Can I?”
“Two glasses of wine probably won’t hurt. I mean, these are small wine
glasses. Smaller than normal. So technically, it’d be just like having
one glass of wine.”
“Protein is good for growing fetuses so I should definitely order two
cheeseburgers. Just in case.”
“If I mix this third glass of wine with coffee, they cancel each other
out, right?”
It’s like you know the jailer is probably coming soon but maybe he got
lost on the way and won’t arrive until next month. Then again, she
could already have snuck past you and is living in your uterus. So LIVE
IT UP before your freedom is taken away! But not really cause you may
already be imprisoned!
It’s exhausting. Especially when you already have a kid and know
exactly what to expect when you’re expecting. I fooled myself the first
time with dumb, naïve platitudes like “I can survive anything for nine
months!” and “It’ll all be worth it when they’re born!”
But the thing is…
You’re not pregnant for nine months. You’re pregnant two weeks past
FOREVER.
It’s worth it six months after they’re born. The first six months you
are just a feral animal surviving on stale Triscuits and instinct.
As unromantic as it sounds, I also want to be pregnant and out of limbo
just to get the whole thing over with. I know I only want two kids, so
once I safely pop out another gigantic Viking baby, I can shut down the
whole damn factory and forget I even have inside lady parts. (That is,
of course, until menopause kicks in and takes an entire decade to
slowly strangle everything down there to death).
Of course, I shouldn’t complain too much. I mean, I’m just trying to
get pregnant. It could be much worse.
I could be a zombie cat stuck living in a box.
Can’t get enough of Aprill? Can’t wait until next week?
Check out her website at http://aprillbrandon.com/
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