Wednesday, January 16, 2013

Oh Just STFU

The most ridiculous, righteous, most twat-ish thing that I have heard come out of some one's mouth lately is this little gem:  "I love being pregnant."
You what? 
Now most sane women would think that this was said with a sarcastic air. 
No such luck friends.  This psycho was completely serious.
She followed it up with "don't you?"
No, sunshine.  I don't.  I'm not sure what you think there is to love.  Were you bulimic in the past?  So now you have a totally excusable reason to barf up your whipped cream and pulled pork binge lunch, and thus you're stoked?
Do you have small boobs and so you are excited that your A cup is going to swell to a near bursting C cup?  Fuck the pain, blow up these ta tas!!
Let me guess, it's all about the super fast growing hair and nails, and that "pregnancy glow". 
I am as un-stoked about pregnancy as it is possible to be.  I spent the first 3 months not-puking.  I was just nauseated from week 4 to week 16, without end.  It's a very strange feeling to be sick to your stomach and ravenously hungry at the same time.  It was to the point where I wondered if I made myself vomit would I maybe feel better.  I actually first had a hunch that I was pregnant because I spent 80% of my honeymoon feeling queasy.  That's a good time my friends.

I spent most of the first trimester so fatigued that I would come straight home from work, make dinner, and go lay down.  I was out cold by like 7:30 most nights.  As a result, I spent a lot of time being sedentary, as opposed to the fairly active lifestyle I was used to prior to getting knocked up.  The sum of these two aspects of pregnancy is that any muscle I had built dissolved into fat in no time.  At this point I think my 10 year old is stronger than I am.

By far, the best (sarcasm....this is what it looks like) weird pregnancy symptom that I have been blessed with thus far is that due to the swelling in my hands and feet, my carpal tunnel syndrome has elevated from like a level 2 (slightly annoying but not bothering me enough to actually do anything about it) to a level 36 (holy shit, cut off my arms!! I don't need them anymore, cut them off!!!)
Every night I wake up because my hands have surpassed numbness and moved on to a burning pain that reaches up past my elbows.  There is no going back to sleep.  There is nothing to be done about it.  I wear wrist braces to bed, and that means I'll only have to get up once or twice because of my hands.  I'll get up 2 or 3 more times either because I have to pee, or because husband face sucks to sleep next to.
I told my husband that if this isn't temporary....if it doesn't go back to normal after I pop the kid out....then I am going to have to get the surgery done.  I absolutely cannot live like this if  I can do anything about it.  The only reason I get through it now is because I'm already miserable in so many ways, what's the difference?  That, and I know that I can't fix it now.  Not with my little parasite in there.
Then there's my husband......ugh.
I love him, I really do.  Having this kid might get him killed.  
It doesn't help that I have crazy prego hormones, and I'm already chemically imbalanced, as I had to stop taking my anti-anxiety meds.  He must have a death wish.
In short, no sweetcheeks, I do not love being pregnant.  I think you're crazy if you do.  Stay away from me and my children you fucking weirdo.

1 comment:

  1. Slow clap. I could have written this verbatim.


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Shouldn't You Be Working by Bethany Davenport is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.