Exploiting Her Baby

I've been reading Teresa Strasser's blog, Exploiting My Baby, for the past few months. She and I were due at the same time, and I loved reading her dry, funny, neurotic take on the pregnancy experience. As my time drew near, I occasionally wondered how she was feeling about hers.

We must have given birth within a day or two of each other because she just made a funny and touching blog post about her experience and I wish I'd written it. This was my favorite part because I understand exactly what she's trying to say:

There aren’t that many main courses on the menu in this life, when it comes to the big experiences.

So, despite wanting to be terminally unique, at some point you order
the chicken or the steak. Maybe the surf and turf. Because there are
only so many dinners available at the cosmic table. The real comfort,
and the big bombshell, isn’t how I felt too good to have what the rest
of you were having, but not good enough. And here I am with my baby,
like a billion and a half mothers before me, and we all want to hear
that our children are chunky monkeys, and that we are not,
and that’s where I find magic where I least expected it, right in the
hackiness. There aren’t many offerings for dessert, either, and that’s
the sweetest part, that we’re all telling the same stories and scooping
our cold spoon into one infinite pint.