Me and pregnancy. A match made in poop heaven. I thought so the first time and I still think so this second time. I hoped it to be different because those cheerful pink ladies with perfect pink pregnancies make me jealous. Babbling about how good they feel, how much energy they have, how many kilometers they’ve run, how sexy they feel, how lucky their husbands are, how healthy they eat, how they could do this over and over again.
Me? Not even close. Not even near close. I hate to complain. I hate to have that feeling that I have to say “I know how lucky I am to be pregnant for a second time knowing that there are women who just can’t be”. But most of all I hate that I hate everything right now. But it’s the naked truth. Just like those scary stretch marks B found yesterday. Do men have those?
So my friend… I think it’s time for a new challenge. It has been so long since the last one and I know you love them. For this particular one, I’m rather late. But not too late. And quite frankly, I think I need to take these extreme measures to make you.
You will hate me. And after a while, you will love me again. Or maybe not, but at least there will be no regret.
If you can make me cry over my 2015 I will make you CRYCRY over yours. Hah! No that’s not me. I won’t write a post just to make people cry. I do it because I love to, because it’s important to me and I’d like to share it with you (and our beloved readers). That has been our goal with this blog and it still is and will always be. Right?