This might be a really weird post coming from a woman who is currently trying to conceive a little one, but here we go…

The other day, L and I were discussing some positive things that have been going on in our lives recently. Just various tidbits of random good news. I thought about how we might tell friends/relatives/coworkers, and realized that ever since I have been married, the words “good” and “news” are always met with…

OMG, are you pregnant?!

And so as a way to remedy this situation, I have become a master at saying this statement five times fast, “We have good news, and NO I’m not pregnant. Hahaha!” (Why I always fake laugh after saying that is beyond me. I guess it’s more of a nervous chuckle.)

Just so I have this straight, after marriage, good news and pregnancy are now inextricably linked? Any and all good news = pregnant.

Sweet.

Prior to marriage, we were young women going to school or working or galavanting about doing whatever the heck we wanted to do. If we had good news, it was met with enthusiasm about what fun or exciting things might be going on in our lives.

Then we got into a serious relationship, and instantly the only “good news” we could possibly have is somehow tied to a sparkly ring. “OMG, are you engaged?!”

Nope, but {ta da!} I just got a master’s degree. Hello? Hello?! Is this thing on?!

Then we got married, and the “good news” is either related to some imaginary baby or purchasing a place to house the imaginary baby.

In the span of a FEW years, the conversation has changed drastically.

I assume (because I’m not there yet) that after you crap out the first baby, the “good news” jumps to predictions over a second baby. Eventually it evolves into, “Did your little junior clone get into the best pre-school/elementary school/junior high/high school/college?” I just learned that our three month old cousin who can barely lift his head is on a waiting list for pre- school. Say whaaaat?!

While in many ways this is the natural progression of the life cycle, if I think about it too long, it hurts my head.

I won’t play the innocent card. When I hear women my age declaring “good news” my mind somehow wanders to “maybe she’s pregnant?”

Next time I do this, I’m going to bitch slap myself.

Yes, we have biological clocks and timelines for baby-making, and all that. Totally understandable. Babies and significant others and houses are all amazing. They are. I’m no better than the next woman who wants them. BUT…

What does this say about a woman’s identity? Since when did “good news” become this exercise in how much money is my husband making (not what I’m making…what HE’S making), am I pregnant, did they buy a house, and other domestic expectations?

The next chance I get, I’m going to tell my in-laws, “I have amazing news!! {pause} I’ve taken up wind surfing!” Then I’ll watch while everyone’s smiles drop to frowns, and my MIL says, “Ahh, I thought you might be pregnant.”