I've never been a fan of pregnancy. Babies. YES. Give me all the babies. When I was pregnant with Jonah, my BFF was pregnant with her third baby and we used to judge each other for our feelings on pregnancy. She LOVED being pregnant. Every second of it. It was the baby coming that she dreaded because that's when things got hard. That's when you stopped being able to sleep and eat whatever you want and exist as a human being for a while. But me? Take the pregnancy and give me the baby. We joked around that she should just carry my babies for me and give them to me when it was all over. It'd be the perfect arrangement. But no. You must keep the baby you made and you must make the baby to keep it. At least in our situations. Anyhoo. My hatred of pregnancy is one of the biggest reasons I was so upset when I saw that positive pregnancy test. It's selfish and it's childish, I know, but all I could think about is how sick I was going to be. And now here I am, 11 weeks preggers and completely loathing the process. I'm not throwing up and for that I'm extremely grateful, but ya'll. My crazy is on another level. I was reading Harry Potter & the Deathly Hallows yesterday. I've read this book no less than 14 times. I've seen the movies at least 4 times. And yet there I was, completely shocked at Dobby's death like it was the first time I'd ever read the words. I sobbed, yo. Lip quivering sobbing. I whispered, "Why did he have to die? You were such a good elf, Dobby." And the tears fell on the pages. And even now, as I write that, I feel a lump in the back of my throat. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME.
Craziness aside, can we talk about my exhaustion because it's miserable. I'm not sure if I'd rather be the crazy, exhausted, hormonal, life in a fog mess that I am right now or sick all day every day throwing up and not being able to eat anything. I've experienced both and I can truthfully say, in this moment, that they're equally miserable. If given the choice, I'm not sure which ailments I would choose. My friend told me the other day that I must be collecting symptoms because I've experienced them all and I told her it was what I get for desperately wanting babies and then complaining about them.
But here's the silver lining. I know that God has blessed me with these afflictions so that I can continue to hold them over my kids for the rest of their lives.
You want $20 to see a movie? Hec no. I threw up every day for 20 weeks. You should be paying ME.
Borrow the car? Are you kidding? Do you realize that you were almost born in the parking lot of the hospital and then proceeded to rip my cervix because you couldn't just wait 10 more minutes to come out? Yea. No. You're walking.
Prom? PROM? You want to go to prom?? No. You're not allowed to feel fabulous for another 10 years because I had to lay on a couch for months just trying to see straight long enough to make it to the bathroom without passing out. I went 4 days without a shower once. No prom for you.
Holding a grudge much, Kristen?
You bet I am.
Just kidding. I love my kids. And there's definitely about three weeks out of every pregnancy that I really do enjoy. I'll let you know when I get to those three weeks. I'm not there yet, though. In case you were wondering.
Also. I feel like everyone I see out in public is thinking this and I don't really care. I'm going to rock this bump because it's probably gonna be the last one I get. Holla.