My estimated due date is the day after tomorrow.  Right.  While I’m still pregnant and not caught up in the feed me! change me! feed me again! cycle of newborn craziness, I thought I’d empty my brain of the random musings I’ve accumulated in the last 39 weeks and 5 days.  For your reading pleasure (and to assuage my mild need to number everything …), bullet points.

1. I continue to be tragically unexcitable.  I get anxious like a professional, yes, but that anxiety is something entirely different than excitement.  I have not been excited this entire pregnancy.  I am not excited about delivery.  I don’t have some sweet building sense of anticipation about seeing The Squishy in person for the first time.  I’m not unexcited by any means.  I don’t have a sense of impending doom or dread or disdain.  I’m just not dancing in the streets and screaming bloody murder in giddiness.  Pregnancy has yet to transform me into some emotionally uncontrolled quintessentially stoked parent-to-be.  For this I remain eternally grateful.

2. People who are overly excited about this impending delivery creep me out.  No lie.  I know that people love us and are happy for us and all that jibbity jabber, but seriously … their excitement is starting to eat at me a little.  It’s entirely possible that I am a stone cold bitch who just hates the world (except the part where I don’t really hate much of anything …), but I just.do.NOT.get.it.

3. I am not miserable.  At no point have I been anything close to what I would call miserable.  I get asked rather constantly these days if I’m “sooooo ready to be done being pregnant” or if I’m “sooooo unhappy and uncomfortable”.  The answer is no.  It has not ever been yes.  I am slightly uncomfortable sometimes, yes.  It is not that pleasant to walk around feeling like someone put a size 12 steel toe boot to my crotch repeatedly.  I’m slower than usual.  I get frustrated with people chastising me for “doing too much”, and then I regularly plan my day around bringing down everything I need from upstairs in one fell swoop so I don’t have to trek the stairs again.  I am not, however, “miserable”, and I am certainly not bitching to people constantly about it.

4. Throwing up eventually becomes normal.  6 straight months of puking at least once a day apparently a habit does make.  First thought: This sucks.  Second thought: So this is why bulimia is so attractive to people.  It’s way more fun to puke than not eat.

5. I hate people constantly checking up on me.  This has become especially heinous in the last few weeks.  Did I have the baby yet?  Am I in labor?  Do I have any new discharge?  Yea.  I’m not kidding on that last one.  My father asks this regularly and makes me throw up a little in my mouth at the thought of having a conversation about any kind of bodily fluid with anyone, um, ever.  I know there are several hundred reasons why people insist on asking questions every 10 minutes, but it’s highly irritating.  Next time you’re about to check up on a pregnant friend, stop yourself.  Ask how SHE is doing, sure, but stop there.  No one needs the Baby Time Line Police interrogating them every 24 hours like perhaps you’ll deliver this kid in your garage and hide it there under straw bales for a few weeks just to spite them.

6. I still feel like I deserve a role in the next Alien movie every time this kid moves.  I know it’s supposed to be “beautiful” and “special” and 294 other ooey gooey adjectives, but mostly it just gives me the creeps.  Still.

7. The modern obstetrical model is an overly medicalized piece of crap.  I feel like I have an entire other post in me for what my opinion on this entails, but suffice it to say … life is far too simple to be made this fucking complicated.  The fear-mongering does not help.  I promise this is not the last you’ve heard about this.

8. Pregnancy is not a reason to be a demanding, annoying, moody pain in the ass.  Nothing really is.  So you’re growing a human, yes, kudos.  Now please seek out personal validation some other way than by using your current incubator status to be a whine ass who makes unrealistic and unnecessary demands for attention.

9. I’m still not positive what contractions feel like exactly.  I hear all about how you’re supposed to feel your abdomen tighten, but … uh … the odds of my uterus being bad ass enough to tighten my not so svelte exterior are pretty damn slim.  Is it that crampy feeling?  Is it that back achy uncomfortable feeling?  Is it something else entirely I have simply not felt yet at all?  I remain completely in the dark on this.  Someone needs to write “Pregnancy for Fat Girls: A Beginner’s Manual” el pronto.

 

There are plenty more, friends, but that will have to suffice for tonight.  The next time you hear from me I might officially be someone’s mother (how terrifying is that shit?).  Or not.  I have no idea.  It could be tonight.  It could be next month.  We’ll just have to see what happens …

 


Em.

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