Mama D's Mom is a formidable woman. She became a Ph.D.-holding scientist at a time (the 1970s) when women were still rejected from medical school because "married women couldn't possibly be serious about becoming doctors" (true story). She dragged her new husband (Mama D's Dad) to Peace Corps after they graduated from college. She copes with the chronic illnesses she and family members face with grace and great empathy. She is Mama D's role model for feminism.
She also has some strange ideas about what being feminist means. Especially as it relates to pregnancy.
Mama D mentioned that it was becoming more difficult to bend over in the third trimester.
"In my day," Mom says, "We were too busy proving we could do it all to complain about pregnancy. We didn't want to be weak. We went out and worked in the fields all day and came home at night to clean and cook and never once complained! We were just as strong and capable as men."
"Um... you worked in the fields? Are you sure you aren't mixing yourself up with someone... say Harriet Tubman?"
"Well, we worked. And we never complained. You're such a wimp."
"I work. And being unable to bend over well is not a complaint. It's a fact."
Mom just shakes her head like Mama D was a 16 year old whippersnapper who knew nothing about nothing.
***
"Jeez, being pregnant can be annoying," Mama D says as she tries three times to squeeze her belly tetris-style through some small gap between furniture that a few months ago would not have posed a problem.
"I loved being pregnant," says Mom.
Mama D looks at Mom as if she's just said she loved something similarly obnoxious, like Justin Bieber. "Really?"
"Oh yes! I mean, the pain was annoying and there were a lot of things that were not pleasant, but the result was so worth it!"
"Labor?"
"No, silly. A Baby." She says the word baby as if it was capitalized. And had at least four syllables. Something like Baaa-aaah-beee-eee.
***
Today, Mom has dental surgery. Before leaving, she declares, "You don't get the sympathy today, Pregnant Lady!"
"What sympathy?"
"All the pity everyone in this family has for you."
"I thought you'd made it pretty clear to everyone I don't deserve sympathy."
"Well, you don't get it all today, so there."
"It's not a contest, Mom."
Again with the head shaking, as if she understands some great life mystery of which Mama D is incapable of comprehending. Is she going to the dentist or to decipher the pyramids in Egypt? Only time will reveal the truth.
But in the meantime, send Mom your sympathy today.
