Shortly after announcing my first pregnancy a female colleague stopped by my office to extend her congratulations. She tentatively shut the door, sat down in the chair beside mine so that our knees were almost touching (before being my office, the space housed a photocopier and paper supplies). She leaned in close to me and said, "Now I'm going to tell you all the things about having a baby that nobody ever told me." She spent a solid hour divulging information that, in my twelve weeks of pregnancy, I was rather unable to grasp. My life, at the time, was focused on who to tell and when, how much longer I could wear my regular pants and how to avoid yacking in my coffee mug on the way to and from work. There I was, listening intently to this woman confess to me her distaste for washing pump parts and the oddity of pulling out a picture of your baby to stare at while syphoning milk from your chest, hoping your male co-workers won't knock on your door at that precise ...