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?
My mother believes that a mother’s mood during pregnancy influences the mood of her baby. Even its character. Something cultural I guess. Or maybe she just says so to make me hate it all a little more. So for the love of my baby I have about 5 more weeks to call out to love and happiness, be positive, cheerful and all pink and glittery.
Lying in bed a 8 pm I made a list to prove that I’m not that bad at this. A list to read back in a few months when I’m awake feeding a hungry baby at 3 am. A list to convince me to have baby number three someday (yeah right).
– I have a huge bump, humungous so to say. But you can’t see anything from the back. That’s pretty right?
– I’m funnier and sharper than ever. Sometimes people don’t even have time to laugh before I kill them with another piece of firework. I have people who can confirm that.
– I love the feeling of that little girl twirling around every day. And her calmness when I sing J’s favorite song.
– B can still lift me. Kind of.
– I have shiny hair double the amount of before. I won’t mention it will fall out. All of it. Plus more.
– J loves my bump the most. Hugging and kissing it every day.
– People start to get up when I enter a full bus or train. Since week 33. One week before my maternity leave.
– Lunch at McDonalds (or Smullers). That’s probably also why I feel ugly but I shouldn’t say that!
– I can legitimate loose my temper when someone calls me ‘biggie’
– I can be lazy and call that pregnancy issues.
– I still believe stretch marks will stretch back and go away once back in shape (don’t dare to tell me otherwise).
– All the buying and sorting out baby stuff is like stuffing your face in fresh chocolate pie.
– Chocolate pie.
– I can nag about missing alcohol without sounding like an alcoholic.
– People can challenge me to make do a preggie shoot and I can say no I don’t feel like it ;)
Well that feels good! Now let’s keep this up for the next 5 weeks and we’ll have sunshine and glitter poop by the end of February. Cheers to that!
Photo from the Gaybeards