The Cure to the teen pregnancy problem

With the premiere of shows like 16 & Pregnant and Teen Mom, it has brought more heat on the teen pregnancy epidemic. The shows were (supposedly) designed to how that being a teen Mom is hard, and what these girls give up to become Mothers. While it’s done some good, reports have surfaced about how much these girls are getting paid, and that some girls are getting pregnant in hopes of being on those shows. Housewife and I have a way to ensure that the teen pregnancy rate drops: things nobody will tell you about being pregnant, giving birth, and being a Mother. Gross, disgusting, nasty things that are conveniently left out of the MTV series. Well, fear no more, dear followers. We’re here to help.



1) You will sweat and fart incessantly.

Congratulations, you got knocked up in the backseat of your boyfriends car! Be prepared for nine months of hell. Not only will you fart all the time, you’ll have some pretty gnarly belches. Not the girly, polite toots. The insult-your-dog smelly farts. Your belches will put the guys at the dive bar to shame. It’s even better when you’re walking down the hall and you get the walking farts. And honey, water will give you gas.


As for the sweat, you will have an internal nine month heater. You can turn the heat down, and the fan up: it won’t matter. You’ll be constantly sweating. Especially down there. When I was pregnant, I took 3 showers a day to wash off the stank. There is nothing quite like the fecund smell of pregnant woman sweat. It’s raunchy, permeating, and nothing you can buy will erase the smell. Sexy.


2)You will probably take a sizeable dump when you’re in labor.
The baby puts considerable pressure on your intestines. Think about it: you’re pushing and there’s pressure. It’s not difficult to wonder why you’ll shit yourself. Your OB tends to gloss over this, and the pregnancy books tend to leave this little miracle out. The nurses probably won’t tell you that you just crapped out lunch, they just whisk it away. I have personally known women who shove out their little miracle, along with poop. One baby was actually born with some poop on its’ foot. Miracle of life? How about miracle of turds?


3)Hope you like bloating, bitches.
Because nature kinda figures you need every single molecule of nutrition, it handily retains them all for you. Anything remotely resembling “nutritional value” your body will keep. Sure, you can keep the lard at bay by exercising. But there’s nothing you can do about the liquid weight gain. It doesn’t matter if you cut out salt, or anything else that makes a non-preggo bloat. It’s gonna happen, and no there’s nothing you can do about it. Bet you’re real glad you didn’t waste the $8.99 on condoms now.

4)Barring a C-Section, you’re gonna either tear or get cut.

To be perfectly blunt, as my dear drunk Mama was with me, “You’re gonna rip from snatch to asshole.” Most women don’t massage their perineum (because honestly, who sits there to massage their ass), it’s not prepared to be stretched. Thus, it’ll either tear or you’ll have an episiotomy. Yep, the trauma caused to your happy place isn’t the only thing you have to worry about. While I’m against C-Sections unless in an emergency situation, the thought of my ass tearing in two made me reconsider my stance. (By the way, prior to giving birth you’re gonna want to stock up on stool softeners. Trust me.)


5)Kiss any and all privacy goodbye.

You expect not to have any privacy in the doctors office, sure. But be prepared for everyone to discuss the state of your reproductive system. Your boyfriend, your mother, his mother, that girl next to you in English class, and strangers on the street. People will not only rub your belly, they’ll want to know all about how that reproductive system is working. They’ll also want to know if you plan on breastfeeding or not. No matter what your answer, there’s going to be someone who’s judging you for not doing it their way. Oh, and because you’re an unwed, teenage mother, you can multiply that judgment by a thousand.


6)After the baby is born, you’d be amazed at how much your life will revolve around poop.(Oh, yes it will.)

While your friend is talking about what that bitch Chelsea said to her in English class, Prom dresses, and the mall, you’ll be agonizing over the color, texture, smell, and frequency of crappy diapers. Why is the baby’s poop green? Did he eat anything green? Shouldn’t it be more solid? Oh my God, the smell, I think I’m gonna throw up. He hasn’t pooped today, he should’ve pooped. Why hasn’t he pooped? This little inner monologue will continue until the baby is potty trained. Ask any Mother: you think about poop more often than anything else regarding your bundle of joy.


7)Having sex = this is why you can’t have nice things.

Nobody can watch their child every single second. And that’s fine, nobody expects you to. Let me share a story with you. I had settled Pooker Butt on the floor with some crayons and paper, so I could get something to eat in the kitchen. Not two minutes later, she toddles in covered in paint, leaving blue and red footprints in her wake. My carpet is also covered in paint. Here’s the thing: I’d put the paint up a good six feet above, so she couldn’t reach it. She’d climbed her happy ass up there, and decorated my rented carpet. I can now kiss a paychecks’ worth of deposits goodbye, thanks to two minutes of me trying to make a damn sandwich. Stupid’s exwife was gone for under a minute to pee, and when she returned their daughter (who was 9 months old at the time) had stuck crayons in the VCR, and dumped red nail polish on the television. My advice, aside from simply not having sex, would be to either A) not have any possessions or B) buy the cheapest shit you can so replacing it doesn’t rape you financially.


8)If you’re sick or not feeling good that is just too damned bad.

While Housewife and I have our respective husbands to help us out, we still have to power through it when we’re not feeling 100%. Your child wants to be with you, wants you to read to them, wants you to play. Not Daddy. A couple years ago, I was at home sick with walking pneumonia. Daycare called, Pooker had a cough and I needed to come get her. Stupid couldn’t, because if he left he wouldn’t get paid. So, despite being on several narcotic medications, burning up but freezing cold at the same time, I drove to pick her up. For six hours, I had to power through my shit to take care of hers. When Stupid got home, I was only somewhat off the parental hook. You see, she still only wanted Mimi to take care of her. This isn’t meant to sound like a Mommy Martyr, because it fucking sucks. No, I don’t want to have to do this again, nor would I choose to so my baby can have some Mimi time. No, if I had it my way, when I’m sick I’d have contact with nobody until I’m sick, child or not. So pound that Pepto and take that Tylenol, kiddo. You’re gonna need it.


9)Your every decision is going to be judged, and you’re going to be called a bad Mother at least once.

Working Mother? Stay at home Mother? Breastfeeding Mother? Formula Mother? Disposable diaper Mother? Cloth diaper Mother? No matter what you choose, how sound your logic, or the circumstances contributing to the decision, there’s going to be someone who will be all too happy to tell you that you’re wrong, why you’re wrong, and just how horribly you’re fucking your child up. Hell, I was called a bad mother for giving my child rice cereal in her bottle when she was 6 weeks old, so she’d sleep more than 2 hours at a shot. Motherhood can be like a fanatical cult. There are zealots who will not only defend their parenting choices to the death, they’ll try to scare you into joining their cloth-diaper cult. They will delight in telling you how you’re just short of murdering your child, and what a horrible Mother you are. These women are bitches who’ll never respect your decision, and your best bet is to walk away. And yes, you are welcome to give them the bird as you do so.


10)Any and all freedom you may have had is G-O-N-E gone.

You know what I miss the most about not being a Mother? The freedom. Being able to pee by myself. (Oh yeah, you’ll miss it. You don’t think you will, but you will.) Being able to just grab my purse and go to the store. Being able to just go to a movie, without arranging 2 days in advance for a babysitter. Being able to shower without worrying that my curious kid hasn’t woken up early from her nap to shove a raisin up her nose. No, now it’s making sure she’s got fresh underpants, strapping her into the car seat, hauling her into and around the store, and keeping her from knocking over everything in the store without losing what little sanity I have left. An errand that would normally take 45 minutes now takes at least double that, because let’s face it: having a child slows you down. Friends going out on a whim? You’re not. Even if by some miracle you can find reliable childcare in twenty minutes, there’s another aspect most teenagers don’t look at: can you afford that $9 movie ticket?


The physical freedom notwithstanding, there’s also the financial freedom being childless brings. No joke, I’d say at least 70% of my disposable income (what little there is) is spent on something child-related. Those new shoes I bought her literally six weeks ago? She’s outgrown them. She needs to go to the doctor, there’s another $20 co-pay, not to mention the medication expenses. She’s outgrown all of her clothes, there’s another $100 at the second-hand children clothing store. We’re not going to even delve into the small fact that she has a hollow leg, if her eating habits are any indication. (And yet, I still get snide comments on how skinny she is, implying I’m not feeding her.) When she was still eating baby food, taking a bottle, and in Huggies, all of our disposable income went to her. If something major had come up, say for example, a car repair, we’d have been screwed.


As a teenager, your situation is going to be much worse. Even if you are working a full time job to support yourself and your child, it’s going to be a low-paying job. Best case scenario, you don’t have to pay for rent or utilities. But you still pay for daycare, food, diapers, clothing, medications, doctors visits, the hospital bill(s), possibly formula, bottles, pacifiers, teething rings, bibs, the list goes on and on and on. You can kiss that $9 movie ticket goodbye, because at some point your choices will be: movies or diapers. And if you think your family is going to support you indefinitely, you’re wrong. Sooner or later, they’re going to want their home and money freed up again. Which means you get your own place, and become self-sufficient, and kiss your disposable income goodbye.


In parting, I’d like to say this: do I think sixteen year olds should be having sex? Hell no. But it’s gonna happen regardless. So either pony up the $10 for some Trojans, hit up your doctor for another form of birth control or spend the next 3 years thinking about and discussing poop. Kiss $10 for condoms goodbye, or kill all of your money goodbye.


The choice is yours, kids. (And yes, you are still children. And there is nothing wrong with that. Until you start making children.)