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Showing posts with label What to Expect Before You're Expecting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label What to Expect Before You're Expecting. Show all posts

Tuesday, June 30, 2009

A BBB (Better Baby Book!)

I realize that, lots of times, I come off as a cantankerous bastard who lays the negativity on pretty thick sometimes. That's part of my charm.

Isn't it?

I know that, sometimes, I'm just plain old mean without being particularly helpful. There are a couple reasons for this:

1.) On this blog, in Cybervania, I'm trying to make you laugh, not trying to help you. Get into a car crash outside my house, and you'll see a different side of me.

2.) Generally speaking, people who "try to help" you, through books or TV programs, or blogs, are more often than not trying to help themselves.

However, having said all that, I feel a responsibility to present my perspectives on another pre-pregnancy book, since I took such unmitigated joy in tearing Heidi Murkoff a quaint new asshole for her atrocious offering, "What to Expect Before Expecting." I mean, it's one thing to totally go off on someone for presenting shitty information in a poopy-smelling package, but it's another to then present a suitable alternative. After all, who knows how many of you out there are TTCing, possibly while reading this very blog entry?

(SQUEEE!)

Ladies and gentlemen, (think you're a stud...?) I proudly present you with, "The Whole Pregnancy Handbook," by Joel M. Evans, MD OB/GYN.

Yes, I feel pretty smug about typing those letters that appear after Dr. Evans' name, because, as we know, there sure aren't any after Heidi Murkoff's. But I don't need to belabor that point because, not only are there letters after Dr. Evans' name, there is also an "About the Author" section, something that, too, seemed to be missing in "What to Expect Before Expecting." Not only that, but Dr. Evans is gracious enough to include a section on contributors to his book, with bios for them, too. His contributors include a perinatologist, a certified family nurse practitioner, a professional animator and yoga instructor (um... okay?), several certified nurse midwives, the first state certified doula in the state of Connecticut, a few more MDs for good measure (one being his wife), and some fucking herbalists and shit.

Now, I'm not a white-coat snob. I don't make it a habit to worship at the door of any physician, (except one), but I happen to appreciate the perspective of medical professionals trained in the baby business. Hearing from physicians and licensed nurse practitioners makes me feel a little bitter about the information that I'm getting. It makes me feel like I'm not reading through a lot of horseshit from "gurus" or "self-made experts" or "people who think they know what they're talking about and can write books because they happened to have squeezed out two kids."

I had originally prepared myself, actually, to dislike this book. I had essentially convinced myself that Dr. Joel Evans was going to be some dancing amongst the Redwoods fruit-loopy looney tune. See, the first half of the first sentence of his bio reads just fine: "Joel M. Evans, MD, is a board certified OB/GYN" okay, that's great, nothing wrong there... "and the founder and director of the Center for Women's Health, an integrative holistic health center."

Uh-oh.

It's Toon Time, kids!

You'd think so, but you'd be wrong. This is a man whose head is on straight. He manages to do something quite difficult and quite respectable-- he writes in a way that acknowledges and respects people who think that holistic medicine isn't necessarily the way to go. He is respectful of both camps, and, while he encourages one to consider the benefits of a total mind-body connection, he doesn't strap on a latex, powder-free glove and shove it down your throat or up your chachee. What's more-- he's an intelligent, sensitive guy (who is able to write out the word "penis" and, I'm sure, even say it in mixed company) and he never talks down to you or makes you feel like an idiot or an asshole-- even if you're a man! Listen to this little passage he writes about an encounter with a woman in his practice,

"Our talk gave Emily an opening to voice her own wishes and concerns, as well as an opportunity for her to come up with a "next step" that felt right. As her medical caregiver, it gave me much more insight into who she was as a person and how I could best help her with whatever medical care she wanted from me."

See? No horseshit, no cutesy acronyms, no dumbing down for the Dorito-eating masses-- just straight, sensitive, empathic talk from a medical professional who doesn't cloak his feelings under a veneer of pabulum or, worse, jocularity. Yes, because he is a holistic kinda guy in addition to being an MD, sometimes he swims precariously out towards the deep end, with his recipies for "Red Raspberry Leaf and Pregnancy-Blend Tea" as a pregnancy stimulant and dandelion greens to help relieve pedal edema, but he also offers over the counter suggestions for these maladies as well. He has this to say about herbal medicine,

"Conventional doctors and scientists could say that the jury is out in terms of scientific proof that botanical medicine works. As a broad statement, that's true-- but it misses the complexity of the situation. Herbs function differently from conventional medications... And, as with conventional medicine, for ethical reasons, you can't always study how herbal medicine behaves in pregnancy." (171)

Now, doesn't this sound like someone who is confident, reassuring, intelligent and thoughtful? Kind of sounds like someone you'd want to talk to, and want talking to you, as you walk down the road hand-in-hand towards the biggest decision of your life.

Doesn't it?

Monday, June 29, 2009

What to Expect Before You're Expecting: Apparently; A Lot of Horseshit

The last time I seriously trashed someone on my blog, I got an ass-reaming. His name was Sean Hoots, a local singersongwriter, and I made the "mistake" of writing a review of a concert of his on my blog. It was my admittedly amateurish review, they were my original ideas and opinions, which I'm pretty sure I'm entitled to express in this country and, especially, on this blog. And yet, his fans found me. I think the link to that particular post got sent out on the Sean Hoots listserv, and I was inundated with comments, some of them pretty nasty, about what an asshole I was and how I didn't "get" Sean Hoots.

To them I said, "No, I get him. I just think he sucks."

You'd think that, after that unpleasantness, I'd think twice before ripping someone else to shreds.

Well, consider this sentence my second thought.

Now that we've got that out of the way, allow me to present my view of "What to Expect Before You're Expecting," by Heidi Murkoff. I'm going to leave co-author Sharon Mazel out of this, since her name is in noticeably smaller print, which leads me to believe two things:

1.) Heidi Murkoff is really in control of this boat and is therefore mostly responsible for all the things I hate about this book and

2.) Heidi Murkoff wants people talking about her in relation to this awful book, not Sharon Mazel, so she made her own name bigger. Well, Heidi, since you want the attention so bad: here it is.

If you're currently thinking about getting knocked up (or "Instant Semenized," as I like to put it) and are aware enough to want to read a little bit about pregnancy before you do the deed sans latex, I cannot discourage you enough from reading this book. If you want morning sickness to come on strong and early, fine, read it, but if eye-rolling and projectile-vomiting aren't your thing, I'd stay away from it.

It all starts off on the wrong foot. Chapter 1 begins with a subsection called "Talk the Talk."

"Are you TTC? You probably are, if you're reading this book-- yet you may not have the slightest idea of what "TTC means (it's short for "trying to conceive")."

Well, thank you very much, Rachel Ray. Why don't we just drizzle some EVOO on our dicks and pump away!? I'm really not into cutsey acronyms in a generalized way. I'm especially against them when it comes to pregnancy. Let me clue you in on something, Heidi Murkoff, pregnancy is serious. It's too serious, in fact, for your dumb fucking acronyms. I'm not "TTC." You know what I'm doing? I'm attempting to bring a new life into the world. I am attempting to nurture a new life with the woman I love more than anything and anyone else in the world. Pregnancy is not cute and it's not abbreviable. It's goddamn fucking serious, and if you're not serious enough to say "trying to conceive" out loud, then maybe you're not mature enough to be writing about it. And, maybe the naive idiots who read this tripe and gobble up all your stupid abbreviations aren't mature enough to be "TTC'ing" either. You, Heidi dear, are very much like a urologist who can't say the word "penis." Frankly, I wouldn't go to a urologist who couldn't say the word "penis." It's my penis-- it ain't no doodle-doo, biatch. Just like menstruation isn't "Aunt Flow," sexual intercourse isn't "BD" (Baby Dance) and the "Big O" isn't ovufuckinglation.

It stands for "orgasm." Ever had one?

Oh, and another thing, Heidi, dear-- my "penis" expels "semen." My "semen" contains "sperm." Here's a list of thing my body does not contain:

An "Olympic Swim Team."

"Incredible swimmers"

"Gooey goop" (seriously, I swear to God-- page 77)

Seriously-- what are you? Twelve years old? "Gooey goop?" Get ahold of yourself, crackpot. I do not have "gooey goop" or "slacker sperm" and, even if I did, I'm sure that they don't need your help getting into "Egg Land" (page 19). Oh wait, my wife doesn't have an "Egg Land" inside her body. We don't even eat "Eggland's Best."

It's sad-- people pick up this book because they're hungry for information. They're about to embark on the scariest adventure that two people can undertake. I know, it's not as scary as researching chemo treatment or coming to terms with end-of-life decisions for your parents, but it's scary, and people want information. They want good, reliable information. Not information that is found on page 83 of this book:

"So, You Think You're a Stud?

Get ready for a reality check,
courtsey of the animal kingdom.
Consider this: A male pig
ejaculates 1 pint (yes, pint) of semen
each time he mates; the average human
male ejaculates only 1/2 to 1 teaspoon
of semen. Here's another stat that may
leave you a little, well, deflated. The
average bull ejaculate contains 10 billion
sperm. In comparison, the average
healthy man's ejaculate contains 100 to 200
million sperm. But before you start feeling
sorry for yourself-- or a little envious of
those other male animals-- remember that
pigs and bulls don't get nearly as many
opportunities to mate as humans do.
So, who's the stud now?"

Um.... yeah. I don't even know how to respond to that.

Now, I realize that there are lots of women out there who think that men are retarded. That's fine. I understand that. You have a lot of examples in real life and in pop culture to support that notion. You have Homer Simpson and Peter Griffin and lots of John Goodman characters to support this notion. Here's the thing, though-- we're fifty fucking percent of procreation: period. Obviously, some women, like Heidi here, are uncomfortable with our status in that regard, and feel fit to denegrate us with embarrassing little side-commentaries like "So, You Think You're a Stud" and accusatory diatribes like "Say No to Pot Before You Say Yes to Baby" (wait-- women don't smoke pot?). What's your goal in comparing our semen to that of bulls and pigs? Is that your idea of including us-- or is that just your infantile way of having a little fun at our expense? I think probably the latter.

Here's my take on you: go fuck yourself, cunt.

I'll elaborate: I don't know who the hell you think you are, churning out this mind-mushing, inane, ill-supported garbage, but I'll bet you've made a pretty penny on unsuspecting young couples who have turned to you as some sort of authority figure on pregnancy. Call me crazy, but there's one thing I can't call you, Heidi, and that's "doctor." Nope-- no little letters after your name. You're not an OB/GYN, you're not an obstetrician, you're not a gynecologist, you're not an M.D., you're not even a Ph.D. (that stands for "PhoneyDoc," Heidi-- you know, like Dr. Phil). You're not a midwife or even a doula. At least, not that I know of... I mean, I don't know what the fuck you are-- because there's no "About the Author" section in this book, and I can't tell you how incredibly suspicious that makes me, Heidi-- very, very suspicious. I guess you were too busy thinking of nauseating acronyms like "BFP" ("Big Fat Positive" -- bleeaarrrgggh!) to think about telling us a little bit about you. I guess it's no accident, though, that you conned Charles J. Lockwood, M.D., Chair of Obstetrics, Gynecology and Reproductive Sciences at the Yale University School of Medicine to write the Foreword to your book.

What'd you do? Promise him a BFC (Big Fat Check)?

Want to know What to Expect Before You're Expecting? A terrible book written by an emotionally immature, puerile, ridiculous woman who TOHA (Talks Out Her Ass). If I were co-author Sharon Mazel, who I'm sure was consistently ignored throughout the "writing process" I would have said, "Hey, Heidi: thanks for putting my name on the cover in a font half the size of yours. Can you take it off instead?"