Approximately one minute after the news was announced, my Twitter feed informed me that Kate Middleton is pregnant. The very next day, The Today Show was stationed outside the hospital where she is being treated for extreme morning sickness. I feel bad for her, I really do, because morning sickness sucks. Not that I would know, but I’ve heard. You see, I had three blissful pregnancies and I know I was lucky. In fact, I loved being pregnant so much that I have been known to say that I wish I could be six months pregnant for the rest of my life. That’s how good I felt. It wasn’t just how healthy I felt either. I loved wearing maternity clothes and having a big stomach that I wasn’t supposed to hide. I always hated my stomach because it was never completely flat, like ever. Being pregnant, I actually had a reason to flaunt my gut. I couldn’t have been happier.
So, why would I want to be pregnant again (aside from my reason for loving it) so that Kate (yes, we are on a first name basis) and I could experience these next nine months together?
Well, first off, it’s the clothes! We all know Kate is a stylin’ Princess and whatever she wears will quickly appear in stores thereafter. I can only imagine the maternity fashions that will be available soon. I was fortunate to be pregnant after the MuMu phase and I had some cute maternity outfits, but I know they won’t even compare to what Kate’s going to wear.
Another reason I’d like to be pregnant at the same time as Kate is that everyone is going to speculate relentlessly about the gender of their baby — rather than mine. The press is assuming that since Will and Kate are such a private couple, they will keep the sex of their royal baby-to-be top secret information, if they even find out themselves. My husband and I never found out the sex of all three of our children beforehand, because we truly didn’t care. However, when you’re pregnant, everyone else seems to care SO much if you are having a boy or a girl. If anyone knew anything about our family lineage, they would know that giving birth to a boy was pretty much a sure thing and then they would have just left me alone.
I couldn’t stand the constant speculation and wagers during my pregnancies, mostly from nosy strangers who simply had to comment on my stomach. “You’re carrying low, it’s definitely a girl.” Uh huh, I’d smile and say, “well, I guess we’ll find out eventually, right?” My point here is that if I were pregnant again, those annoying pregnancy psychic-wannabes would care less about the sex of my baby. It would be all about the royal baby, or babies, as the press already is saying a strong possibility.
Other than disliking the gender-guessing, I loved the attention of being a pregnant woman. When I was pregnant with Middle Dude, he was due in early January 2000. “He might be a millennium baby born on January 1st,” I’d say, adding some excitement to my unfolding pregnancy story. If Kate and I were pregnant together and due around the same time, I could milk even more oohs and ahhs.: “Oh, I’m due in June, right around the same time as Kate Middleton,” I’d gloat. “Maybe our kids could have play-dates, since they’re going to be the same age and all,” I’d joke. Fun stuff, right?
Oddly enough, prior to the big royal announcement, I actually had a dream that I was pregnant, which would border on a miracle, considering my age. In the dream, I was actually panic-stricken and filled with terror. And, as if observing my own dream, I thought to myself that it wasn’t like me to feel that way about being pregnant. But yeah, I’m done, very done with having babies and that dream was a clear confirmation, especially when I woke up and felt utter relief that I was not with child. I am still a little wistful for that phase of my life, but I’ll just re-live it through Kate, as will the rest of the world.