The Misanthropic Pregnancy.
So here I am in the month 7, still alive and kicking. Well, he's doing more of the kicking than I am, which was great the first hundred times he did it but kinda lost its charm in month 6. His name's Langston, by the way. Yes, after that Langston. A suitable name, according to The Village, who rejoiced so loudly that--to be honest--I'm still lightweight tempted to throw in a Tyquan or a K'james just to piss folks off. Because I'm one of those progressive types who believe that a kid should be judged by his character and not the crazy number of apostrophes in his name.
That said, this journey has bee one big fucking pain in the ass. I don't see how some women do the multiple pregnancy thing. The scrutiny alone would be enough for me to swear off getting knocked up again. What are you doing? What are you eating? Are you sure you should be eating that? I read in BitchesDon'tHaveNOBusiness Monthly that you really shouldn't be doing that... Add to that the perfect strangers touching your belly without permission and a high risk specialist with the bedside manner of Gregory House and you've got a woman on the verge of a "Falling Down" moment. But then I'm sure someone would bitch at me for carrying a heavy ahotgun. You shouldn't be killing people in your condition! Yeah, yeah. I know.
The upside, though, is that you will never score as much free food in your life. Friends will come bearing lasagna and chocolate, or take you out to your favorite restaurant JUST because you're knocked up. It's kinda awesome. Sadly, the resulting heartburn and acid reflux isn't. But I'm lucky to have such a great support system. A lot of women don't.
I'm anxious. I dream about him, and wonder what type of man he'll become. I hope that he'll be the best parts of us. I can't wait to meet this kid.
And I can't wait to get my fucking body back.
That said, this journey has bee one big fucking pain in the ass. I don't see how some women do the multiple pregnancy thing. The scrutiny alone would be enough for me to swear off getting knocked up again. What are you doing? What are you eating? Are you sure you should be eating that? I read in BitchesDon'tHaveNOBusiness Monthly that you really shouldn't be doing that... Add to that the perfect strangers touching your belly without permission and a high risk specialist with the bedside manner of Gregory House and you've got a woman on the verge of a "Falling Down" moment. But then I'm sure someone would bitch at me for carrying a heavy ahotgun. You shouldn't be killing people in your condition! Yeah, yeah. I know.
The upside, though, is that you will never score as much free food in your life. Friends will come bearing lasagna and chocolate, or take you out to your favorite restaurant JUST because you're knocked up. It's kinda awesome. Sadly, the resulting heartburn and acid reflux isn't. But I'm lucky to have such a great support system. A lot of women don't.
I'm anxious. I dream about him, and wonder what type of man he'll become. I hope that he'll be the best parts of us. I can't wait to meet this kid.
And I can't wait to get my fucking body back.