Listeriosis, caffeine, and more things that might kill me.

I have told exactly two of my co-workers that I'm pregnant (that's not counting my bosses, who I broke the news to a few days ago).

I felt the need to spill the beans to them before the second trimester mark, to maybe explain why I was running to the bathroom every hour and coming back looking like someone had told me my dog just died.

Last night--or yesterday morning, around 3am--I brought a cup of coffee to my desk because, I'm kinda pregnant and awake at 3am and otherwise would have promptly passed out within 5 minutes.

I happened to be working with one of those in-the-know.

I had the cup of coffee at my lips, trying to gauge just how hot it still was, when she interrupted.

"YOU CAN'T HAVE CAFFEIENE!" she literally yelps, as if her proclamation is seconds away from saving my (or my child's) life.

And then I took it to bathroom and chugged it until my throat burned.

I should have just told her to shut up and mind her own business. But I'm in no place to piss off my advocates at work and one of the only semi-friends I've made there so far.

These pregnancy warnings are out of control. There's no other way to say it.

I understand the importance of being informed and, of course, taking necessary precautions to protect my unborn child, but come on. I can't have a cup of coffee? As in, one cup? I can't go eat a turkey sandwich, because 2,000 people get listeriosis every year?

10,000 people are killed by lightning every year. Should pregnant women (not the entire population) wear rubber soles on their shoes AT ALL TIMES, just in case?

I take a risk every time I do anything. I took a risk last night when I ate every last chip from my chips and salsa at a Mexican restaurant last night. The waiter could have very well been picking his nose, wiping his ass, or even *gasp* handling lunch meat and not washed his hands before he dumped those chips into that basket.

In fact, my stomach kind of hurt when I got home. And instead of chalking it up to the aformentioned entire basket of chips I consumed, my thoughts wondered from listeriosis to E-coli to the swine flu to a miscarriage to AIDS to tornadoes to demonic possessions to a brutal death for me and my baby.

And then I threw up, and I was just fine.

I understand the facts about lunch meat.

But it's the same kind of risk we take with everything we consume. Be smart, don't eat lunch meat (or anything) that's been left sitting there. Heat it up to kill off the bacteria if you feel so inclined (don't forget, though, that the microwave is probably infested with millions more bacteria and you've just introduced a whole new set of risks).

I wonder if men were the ones getting pregnant, if these all-knowing rules would be as stringent (albeit, if men were the ones getting pregnant, it would shift the inequality-dynamic altogether, but still).

I can't imagine a man growing a baby inside of him drinking a cup of coffee having a co-worker scream to PUT THE COFFEE DOWN.

We assume men can take care of themselves.

Women, on the other hand, need a little (or a lot) to get them through it safely.