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Broke Wife, Big City
The beauty of
pregnancy *fart* *burp* *sob*
By Aprill Brandon
I made myself a promise, you guys. A promise back months ago when I was
lying sleepily in my husband’s arms discussing expanding our little
family. A promise that the next time I got pregnant I wouldn’t
complain. Not even a little bit. Because creating life is a beautiful
thing. And I should be so lucky to get to experience it all again.
Aaaaaaand then I got pregnant again.
Needless to say, now I consider it a good day if I resist the impulse
to set everyone and everything on fire.
And we’re only on week 12.
But no. No, there I go being all negative again. I mean, I’m building a
life, cell by cell! If you think about it, the way pregnancy changes
your entire body, mind and soul really is an amazing expression of
love. Some might say the ultimate expression of love.
I mean, pffft. Who can complain in the face of something that powerful?
It’s just these constant headaches, you know? And the puking. Oi, so
much puking. Not just nausea but full-on “The Exorcist” re-enactments
(complete with the colorful language). I never had that with my first
born. They say that every pregnancy is different. But my suspicion is
that they say this because they’re too polite to say the truth (that
truth, of course, being that every pregnancy sucks, but each one sucks
in its own unique way).
And this one sucks in that “I wake up every morning feeling like I have
the flu AND a hangover” way.
But no, no. The whole process really is miraculous. I need to remember
that. A mere nine months of some discomfort in exchange for a perfect
tiny creature with your eyes and his mouth and tootsies so cute you
just have to stuff ‘em in your mouth or else die? Sounds like some
pretty good math to me.
Then again, I always did get C’s in algebra. I mean, do you know what
it’s like to have to pretend to be human when in actuality all you are
at this point is a bloated walking ball of raging hormones and ginger
ale? What it’s like to have to interact with other humans when every
time you sit down it’s like you got hit by a tranquilizer dart? Like,
people expect me to care about ridiculous things like deadlines and
bills and basic hygiene when it’s taking all my self-control not to
curl up and fall asleep at their feet like some sad, hairless, always
slightly sweaty dog.
Not to mention, when you say hello to me now, I can instantly tell you
everything you ate and drank that day. It’s the worst superpower ever.
But there I go again. Complaining. I mean, I got my wish. I’m pregnant!
I wanted this with all my heart! Or at the very least, three-quarters
of my heart! (The other quarter is still mourning the loss of my
post-night-night time cocktail).
And just think of all the wonderful upsides to pregnancy. The gigantic
boobs that spring up out of nowhere seemingly overnight. Eating steak
for breakfast. The knowledge that you have a tiny tadpole/gummy bear
hybrid growing inside you. The…um…well, I know I already mentioned the
boobs, but seriously, they just become a work of art.
In fact, it almost makes up for all the bosom area soreness and
tenderness you also experience. And the industrial strength farting.
And the craving for half a gallon of milk even though your doctor told
you to slow down with the first trimester weight gain because in all
her years as an OB-GYN, your weight gain is, quote, “unprecedented.”
And then there’s the constipation.
And the sausage fingers.
And the having to pee every 11 minutes.
And the uncontrollable sobbing because there’s only one donut left in
the box and it looks so lonely and you just wish it had a friend and so
you know you have to eat it so it’s no longer alone but you’re already
a fatty fat mcfatty face.
So, obviously, as you can tell, this pregnancy is something I plan to
treasure. Especially since this one is likely to be my last due to me
and the mister being firmly entrenched in the “two and through” baby
making camp.
And I look forward to sharing this amazing journey with all of you.
Especially those of you who can help chip in for my bail when I finally
do lose it and light someone on fire.
Can’t get enough of Aprill? Can’t wait until next week?
Check out her website at http://aprillbrandon.com/
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