I know five people who have had babies in the last few months and a couple more who are pregnant and due shortly. Yesterday I went to yet another baby shower, this time for a friend who tried for years and years to get pregnant, doing everything science could do for her, was never successful, finally adopted a beautiful little girl, then found out two years later, voila!, she’s pregnant the old fashion way. It’s really a fantastic story, and I couldn’t be more thrilled for her, but oh, my God. It seems like everywhere I look there are babies and pregnant women coming out of the woodwork! What was going on nine months ago that started this baby boom?
When I pointed this out yesterday, a friend laughed and said, “You must have baby fever.” I nearly dumped my margarita on her. You all know I have three gremlins I love dearly, but I am definitely done. Finished. Kaput. Three is all I can handle. I do love holding babies – which I did yesterday with a 3 wk newborn who was at the shower – but I’m more than happy to give them back when they start screaming. I never liked the newborn stage with my own kids – the sleepless nights, constant feedings, endless diapers. It wasn’t my favorite time. I much prefer when those newborns get to be more fun – say 6-9 mo. old. In fact, after I came home from the shower (sorry, side trip here….but honestly, who comes up with those silly baby shower games???? Since when do mature, educated women find sniffing melted candy-bar encrusted diapers that look like a surprise my three year old might have left amusing entertainment????), I said to the DH, “I am sooooo glad that isn’t us.” He agreed.
I find it interesting women get so worked up over babies. I have a good friend who’s working on a proposal that includes quads. Yes, you read that right…quads. Her editor suggested the quads because (as the editor put it), “You write babies well.” Obviously, this editor loves books about babies. Me? Not so much. Perhaps that’s because I’m still sorta in the baby stage, with a three year old at home. Babies to me are not romantic – for all the reasons I stated above – sleepless nights, constant feedings, endless diapers. They are the killer of sex for at least the first six months, not only because who feels like having sex when you’ve got a cling-on 24/7?, but because anytime the mood strikes, you can be guaranteed someone’s going to start screaming (and it isn’t one of the participating parties). And in a book with a couple that’s just gotten together, I hate to think of the sexless nights that lie ahead for them. Maybe I’m weird, but oh, baby, newborns are so not sexy.
I’ve never written a book that included a baby or newborn. The logistics of including a child in one of my chase/adventure books is just too much. And because I don’t find babies romantic, I’ve never written a pregnancy into one of my books either – though I do have some ideas for that down the line, and I never rule anything out.
What about you? What’s your take on babies? Romantic, not romantic? And if you have kids, how old are they? (Scientifically speaking, I think the age of one’s child affects how ga–ga they get over newborns.) Also, do you like reading books that include babies or pregnancies? Why or why not.