Not a Fan

I always hear lots of women gushing over how much they luuurve being pregnant. How wonderful it is. How feminine they feel. How empowering and incredible the whole process of carrying a child and bringing a life into the world is. Well, I'm here to say I have NEVER felt that way. These amazing emotions and ideas that "most" women feel have completely escaped me.

No, I'm not a fan of pregnancy.

Don't get me wrong. I think it's cool that I have this little life growing inside of me. I love her and all that. However, she...like her brother and sister before her...makes me feel completely awful. Completely. Awful. I'm tired as I've ever been after a long night of partying...and believe me, I've known some long (very fun) nights of partying. And, I'm sick as I've ever been after a long night of partying... all without the benefit of bad (also very fun) decisions and those oh-no memories that creep into your thoughts the next day. Yeah, while all these other women talk about how fan-freaking-tastic they feel when they're pregnant, I'm feeling as hungover as I've ever been in my entire life, and my new BFF is the porcelain god. For months and months on end. Hungover. Without end.

Then there's the weight gain. What. The. Hell? And, this time around, the nurses make me keep a little card with my weight from each doctor's visit as a gentle excruciating reminder that yes, I am gaining weight...I am indeed getting fatter with each and every breathing second. Thanks for that. As if I couldn't tell by the unattractive way that my clothes no longer fit, the increasingly unflattering angles that the mirror produces, or the extra jiggle bouncing from my booty.

And, since my clothes have protested their ways off my body, what's left is the lovely horribly gross disgusting maternity wear. Whichever butthole invented the store Motherhood is, well, a true butthole. I mean, why? Why? Why? Is this the best you can come up with? Poorly stitched jeans, sandpaper-like materials, styles that were popular at the Dress Barn back in the flipping 80s?!?!?!?!? Thanks, but no thanks. There are other stores, some folks profess. Well, yes, yes there are other stores, but they ain't here. Not in this town. And, ordering maternity clothes online is like sending your grandmother to shop for you: Only half of what arrives will fit, and only 5% of that will look decent.

Also not helping pregnancy's cause is the incessant peeing. In the middle of the night, several times a night. I thought this was gonna clear up after the first trimester. I thought wrong. Why was I still  making a break for the potty every other breath? Well, it seems THIS baby girl has positioned herself right on top of my bladder. Awww. Isn't that sweet? So precious. This would also explain the puke-n-pee episode that happened just last week. I mean, really? It just doesn't seem to get any easier.

At least the outcome is absolutely worth it all. Not the delivery part. Oh no, I am definitely not a fan of my south of the equator being a stage for all the world to see. I'm talking about the part where she's out of my body and resting in my arms. I don't even mind the middle of the night stuff or the crying stuff. I love my babies. Love them. I can't wait to see and smell and kiss all over this one. And get my freaking body back.