Sick of Pregnancy
I got back this weekend from watching a movie with my husband because my friend advised I watch as many movies before we have our baby. As my husband parked the car in the garage and I slowly squeeze my way out, I realized for a moment that I’m getting sick of pregnancy. I guess after 10 months of my life being ruled by this “thing” growing in my belly, I am allowed to be sick of this. My body is no longer my own. And my whole identity surrounds this pregnancy. Every comment from others is about the pregnancy. Every thought when others see me is regarding the baby. I can’t and should not hate on people for saying generic pregnancy comments. However, it’s all getting old now.
Generic things people say to me that I get annoyed about…but know I shouldn’t:
- “You’re glowing!” Yeah, no shit. I stopped intentionally intoxicating myself with any substance that brings any type of chemical enhancement to my mind, drink about 80oz of water a day, eat healthy, take all these wondrous supplements, sleep at least 8 hours a night, and take my makeup off every night (because I’m never drunk).
- “Are you nesting now? Oh, you’re nesting. You’re totally nesting.” Who the F coined this term? Yeah, a momma bird works tirelessly to bring hundreds of twigs together so she can lay her eggs and keep her babies safe. And yes, I had to work tirelessly researching online all the organic and non-toxic crap I wanted my baby to grow up with. Yeah, I had to spend MANY hours reading comments from other parents trying to decide whether it was worth that extra $400 for the handmade coconut husk naturally anti-microbial mattress for my baby. Yes, I had to do laundry a million times so I could prepare all the baby clothing and blankets, order all the furniture to make his room cute yet manly…all the meanwhile realizing that babies in 3rd world countries grow up just fine without anything. Nesting? I don’t know…it gives off too much of this fuzzy warm connotation. Or maybe it’s just the way people say it to me. They smile when they’re saying it. I wouldn’t go up to anyone and say, “oh, you’re working on that 1,000 page report due January 28th. Oh, how sweet. You’re totally working on it!”
Yeah, I’m complaining and being bitchy, but it’s just because maybe I didn’t realize how much pregnancy would change my life. Yeah, I’ve got my panties in a bunch but maybe it’s cuz I’m sick of wearing ugly cotton parachute panties.
Then this is the moment I realize I’m just so full of shit and need to calm down…that these emotions I feel indicate how immature I am at times. That I am too self centered, and that my life is really no longer my own…that change, wrinkles, and death is imminent and I can no longer hold onto my old life. I’m creating new life…and this is how the cycle continues.
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