I should find more instructional books

While antique shopping, we found this great book for $1; "Better Homes & Gardens Baby Book," from 1951. Of course we got it. It was $1, and much like "Teen Guide to Married Life," these books can't be passed up, child in the house now or no.

I've heard your unasked concerns, and I've found answers you didn't know you needed. Yes, I'm here to share with you the realities of child-rearing and pregnancy, circa 1950. You can thank me later.

Concern No. 1: How will I know I'm pregnant?
Answer: Well, funny you should ask, because "it's not at all uncommon for a bride, thought she isn't pregnant, to skip a period ... because the possibility of pregnancy is in her thoughts." If you're pretty sure -- like, three months into missed period-land -- there's the rabbit test which is about 95 percent accurate. (But only if she's a bride. If she's single, Jesus in 1951 wouldn't let that happen. It's probably just gas.)


Concern No. 2: I'll never be skinny again.
Answer: "You'll be sylphlike again." It says that -- "sylphlike." I don't know what it means, but it sounds refreshing. "Many of the lovely figures you see going up and down the street belong to women who have had one or more babies. Follow instructions about not getting heavier than necessary and don't worry!" Easy enough. Put down the cupcakes, fatty.

Concern No. 3: You won't be able to do anything when you're pregnant.
Answer: "If you're a working woman: If your appearance is important in your work, you'll want to quit." This is especially important if you're, say, a Victoria's Secret model or a waitress at a restaurant that gets its name from jokes you heard over a beer pong table.

Also, note you shouldn't climb stairs "more than is absolutely necessary" and you shouldn't become chilled. Because, you know, it's uncomfortable and goosebumps on pregnant ladies accentuates those extra pounds, right? You also shouldn't swim, but if you are accustomed to driving, you can probably do so in moderation. To like, the store to make your husband a meatloaf -- but that's it.

Don't you feel better already? I'd share more but I don't want to give away the ending.