There’s a lot of things about this whole pregnancy business I’m still trying to wrap my head around.
and gross physiological processes aside, one of the most fascinating elements for me so far has to be a recently discovered custom that is somehow inexplicably tied to giving birth: the Push Present.
A practice that I can only assume has been made popular in recent years by the implicitly materialistic Hollywood celebrity scene, my understanding (or lack thereof) of the Push Present is as follows:
All right, listen. I’m not a total beatnik.
I consume things too, albeit at a slightly slower rate than your average Hollywood baby mama. I love my iPhone and my Macbook. I don’t own an iPad, but would welcome the opportunity to. I tried Apple TV once, but ultimately rejected everything it stood for.
But has it really come to this?
Have a baby, get an elaborate gift?
Doesn’t it seem like another desperate attempt to equate love and pride with consumerism and consumption?
Up until very recently, I had no idea the Push Present was even a thing.
And I wasn’t the only one.
This is the father of my unborn child’s reaction the exact moment I asked him if he knew what a Push Present was:
If we were celebrities (LOL), we’d be in the minority. A quick–and frankly, infuriating–Google search placed me at the doorstep of a compilation of Push Presents bestowed upon celebrity mothers upon the delivery of the next generation of spoiled, entitled debutantes. Here is a small sample:
- Beyoncé Knowles: a gargantuan, $35,000 Tanzanite ring the size of a kidney stone, probably
- Jessica Simpson: a $30,000 collection of platinum bracelets and matching necklace with a “huge” amethyst
- Mariah Carey: a $12,000 diamond-encrusted nameplate featuring her childrens’ names
- Kristin Cavallari: a $10,000 Hermès bag
I know I sound preachy and judgmental. I guess I’ve just been struggling to understand the Push Present’s raison d’être.
But here’s the thing–and it’s an important distinction in trying to understand this phenomenon.
I am not Beyoncé Knowles.
And mercifully, I am not part of her world.
I am just your run-of-the-mill pregnant girl, sitting in front a computer, asking for nothing in return other than some good drugs and maybe a cold, refreshing beer in the postpartum.
I don’t expect–nor ever have–a Tiffany & Co. box on the eve of my delivery. I don’t need an amethyst (mostly because I don’t even know what the hell that is). And don’t hand me a Hermès bag unless you’re 100% clear on how to pronounce it.
All I want is a healthy baby.
That’s the Push Present I want.
And a beer.
Oh god, and an ice cold beer.