So. Alt Summit. Last week was a whirlwind, and it also happens to be a whirlwind where I was pregnant in heels. It was tiring and exhilarating, and I’ll have more to say about it once I’ve sat with it a little bit. Mostly, I was so deeply grateful to be in an environment last week where it wasn’t just okay to be a pregnant woman working long hours networking, doing business deals, and teaching. The fact that I was pregnant was celebrated (“OMG YOU’RE PREGNANT! I didn’t know! You’ll love two kids!”), and the fact that I was doing business was just unquestioningly accepted. Women all around me were talking revenue figures with infants strapped to their chests. So running ambitious business goals for 2015 by friends while being reasonably pregnant didn’t make anyone bat an eye.
I’m so appreciative to have an entrepreneurial community like that around me.
Which brings me to the thing I failed to mention: I’m pregnant! Nearly twenty weeks pregnant, in fact. Or as I call it, “Basically halfway there. Fuck yeah.” For the handful of you that paid careful attention to my last pregnancy issues (because of similar medical issues of your own, or just because you are kind people), this pregnancy has been a hundred percent different. Last time I had dangerous and severe pregnancy-related depression, a maternal mental health issue that’s only just beginning to get widespread attention. Thanks to medication, good luck, and a whole different baby in there, this time I have had none of that. Instead, I’ve just been wildly, wildly nauseous and ill, something they say ends at ten weeks, but alas, has not. So at almost twenty weeks, I’m on IV hydration to try to put on weight (God bless modern medicine). All of which goes to show, any go-round you get at this nutso game called pregnancy is totally different. Last time I gained seventy pounds (without an ounce of ice cream eaten THANK YOU DOCTORS FOR THOSE RUDE REMARKS), this time I’ve struggled to gain two pounds. Go figure.
The last week (and few months) have made me ponder the huge respect I have women. Women, who have to decide if they want kids or not (or what to do if they end up pregnant by surprise), and then deal with all of society’s attendant bullshit about their choices. Women, who have to deal with infertility. Women, who have to be the ones to soldier through pregnancy… even when it looks nothing like the effortless dream the media presents it to be. Women, who get to do labor. And newborns. Not to mention run of the mill sexism plus the patriarchy. I increasingly feel that womankind could pretty much take mankind in a fistfight with their eyes closed any day of the week, emotionally or physically. Because right? Forget “the softer sex.” Women are tough.
But I for one, would rather get on with it. Sometimes pregnant, and sometimes in heels. Glittery ones, since I’m picking.
Highlights of APW This Week
A goodbye (for now) from intern Hayley.
A community-made San Francisco church wedding.
Wedding invitation wording examples (for real life).
Thirteen awesome weddings with budgets under $8,000.
“The day we got married.”
How to make metallic fringe place card settings.
A Monday elopement beneath a waterfall, barefoot in a turquoise dress.
Can we solve our child-care problem?
The unfulfilled promise of the Crock-Pot, an unlikely symbol of women’s equality.
Florida police were using mug shots for target practice. Here’s how clergy responded.
Ten pioneering female pilots (who aren’t Amelia Earhart).
Why it’s a problem that some writers never talk about where their money comes from.
What the first photographs of snowflakes looked like.
The orthodox sex guru.
The Megyn Kelly moment.
Reality show sends fashion bloggers to work in a Cambodian sweatshop.
Stay-at-home parents already get a tax break.
Do happy couples masturbate?
Reasons you weren’t promoted that are totally unrelated to gender.
The newest item on Denny’s menu? A grand slam breakfast tweet.
The aging of Abercrombie & Fitch.
How people without parents do money.
One week of harassment on Twitter.
Children’s birthday parties are getting more and more extravagant. Here’s how it happened.
Walking Dead star Danai Gurira moonlights as a playwright.
How Selma got smeared.