Having almost forgotten about the whole seven people who have followed my pitiful one-shot-in-the-dark blog, I got a polite poke from blogspot with an encouraging undertone of, "Why Hello, how have you been? Do you still love us?"
How HAVE I been?
Well.. I met this goofy bartender, married the pants off him, and delivered the most gorgeous pair of blue eyes attached to a kid, ever. My family is pretty damn awesome. It wasn't exactly easy getting to the "plus one is three" stage. Has anyone ever mentioned, being pregnant friggin sucks? I mean, not in the, "ohhhh I can't do anything, im so tired..." sense.. but more like in the, "F*** you, F*** this, F*** that, I'm going F***ing home to take a F***ing nap, and If you try to wake me up, I'll ***** **** **** your ******* in the ***** ***** **** and ******* eyebrows******soup can*** ** or ***** !!! Got it?" Kind of sense. I looked like I was trying to smuggle a watermelon out of a grocery store under my clothes. At month five, I had a cute belly.. the kind people like to see. I took my maternity photos at six months, because I was already large enough to start creeping people out. At nine months, I no longer got the "ohhh how sweet, a pregnant lady" looks.. and got things like "Sweet jesus what is WRONG with that creature?! Kill it with fire!!!!!" "Is that a MOUNTAIN waddling across the store?!"
I have never been more relieved to see my ankles than I was after he was born.
Why the hell am I doing this again?? Again, I'm on my third month and am already starting to swell like a bee-stung redheaded kid at band camp. Babies are AWESOME! Who would have thought? making babies is horrible. "oh but your hair is so lucious!" "..It's thick. And tangled. and somewhere in there, there might be a french fry." " Your skin is GLOWING!" "no... I'm sweating." "You must be sooo excited!" ".........are we there yet??" Every woman around me swears of a perfect pregnancy. They LOVED it. They felt GREAT. It was AMAZING! A MIRACLE! God they just LOVED being pregnant! That's great, I'm glad they enjoyed it. What kind of terrible person was I in a past life to deserve this? I HATE being pregnant. The disdain women get when they admit that it wasn't so wonderful is intense. It wouldn't surprise me if half of them lied, if they're faking it just to escape the scorn of women who can't seem to grasp that life isn't unicorns. There is such a stigma about motherhood already, I had no clue that pregnancy carried it's own stigmas. "oh, you're eating MEAT while pregnant? Wow you must be brave. -I- Never ate anything but fruit and veggies, just the best for my little baby." As if eating a steak was caring less for my child. God forbid I be caught drinking a diet coke ... My whole first pregnancy, I was scared to death about everything. I ate carefully, I avoided things with high sugars, I avoided sprouts, eggs, lunch meats, hotdogs, chocolate, fish.. Somehow, one of the first questions that women ask after encountering a pregnant woman is always the one that is NONE OF YOUR GOD***** BUSINESS..... "So, of course, you're planning to breastfeed, right?" For me, I tried.. I really did. For three months. It just didn't work. Between his confusion, tongue tied, frustration and hunger, it just never worked out. It took him losing weight for me to finally put my foot down, stop torturing myself and give my breastfeeding counciler the finger. "Breast is best! formula fed babies often result in lower mental capacity, violence, a future in drugs and crime, and even possible being a republican." After giving my son his first week of formula, watching him fill out, sigh contentedly and start to enjoy being a baby, I could honestly give a f*** less what other people think. How is letting my child lose weight, be stressed and hungry, better than just feeding him? what the hell is wrong with you hippies?? Not to mention the angry harassment we get for feeding them in public. Make up your damn mind, America... "Breast is best.. unless you're in public. then you're a nasty pervert and OH MY GOD I CAN SEE YOUR TITTY".
This time, I eat what I want. I do what I want. If I want a sip of wine from my husband's glass, I take it. If I want chocolate, I eat it. I no longer feel obligated to explain my choices to other women. In class, (Oh yes.. I'm taking accounting classes..) I boldly state, "well it's none of your business how I will feed it. I might not feed it. I just might eat it the day it's born." When asked if someone can touch my belly, I stare them in the eyes, down into their soul, and say "Yeah I dont think so " without a single amoeba of remorse.
This still doesn't make me feel better, as I sit here in nothing but a blanket and one sock, because I'm too lazy to actually get dressed.
Is it April, yet?
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