My mom gets mentioned a lot around this blog, but other than the genetic factor I don’t think I ever go into much detail about the relationship we had.
I’m very protective over my memories with her. She passed away when I was 19, and for 18 years of that we didn’t really get along at all. We butt heads constantly, she was on a lot of medication that made her (for lack of a better word) crazy (and even she admitted that towards the end), but despite all that we were thick as thieves.
I get upset, and so hurt when people question that relationship. It’s no ones’ place to do that, because no one really knows what our relationship was like except her and I.
When my mom first went on dialysis, I was in highschool. I remember it not being so bad at first, just once or twice a day, but as years went by with no transplant, that got upped to four times a day. She had to quit the job she loved (as a teacher) and go on disability. Dialysis basically kept her in the house at all times, because she always had to be doing it to keep her kidneys functioning.
I even dropped classes to come home and help her, because she couldn’t carry the heavy boxes of fluid from the garage to her room. Most of the time she didn’t want to go grocery shopping or clean, so I did that, too. I took care of her by myself. When she had surgery, my Grandma came to take care of her because I couldn’t be there all the time, but other than that I don’t recall many visitors, if any at all. As an unruly teen, of course I didn’t enjoy doing all the housework, I didn’t like how she treated me, always yelling, always fighting. We took each other for granted, we thought we’d always be there for one another.
In the middle of my senior year, my mom decided to up and move to the beach. I couldn’t leave my school and start over in a NEW school in the middle of my senior year. My mom knew that wasn’t fair to me and I don’t think she even expected me to go with her, but she was intent on going, and so she did. I moved in with my Dad and continued going to the same school, to stay at my alma-matter, to have my picture in my own yearbook, to graduate with my friends.
Once we didn’t live together anymore, my Mother and I, we got along about a thousand times better. We weren’t there to grate eachother’s nerves. I think I went to visit her just about every weekend. I tried to get her to come and see me but most of the time she made an excuse and bailed out at the last second. One time it left me sitting in a Chili’s parking lot for an hour before she called and said she’d been pulled over and was just going to go home.
Then came the call, while I was at work, she got a kidney. The surgery would be that day. She begged me to come, my work wouldn’t let me leave. I realize now I should have just gone, but I couldn’t afford to lose my job and have no way to pay my rent and bills. I promised to go and see her in a few days, and I did.
A lot is fuzzy after that. I think she got released and re-admitted a few times. She wasn’t getting better, the kidney was rejecting.
The thing that was supposed to make her live LONGER, was hurting her.
She spent a stretch of something like 5 months in the hospital. Through Christmas, too.
Still working 6-7 days a week, I couldn’t see her as much as I wanted to, or as much as she wanted me to, but there wasn’t much I could do. I couldn’t drop everything and not pay my bills and live on the street, and the hospital was a good 45 minutes away. This caused some of my family to judge me harshly. They thought I should be there more. If I could have been, I would have been. I knew my mom understood, we had full conversations about it. We talked on the phone constantly. I took her presents. I made surprise visits. A few of the visits, that hospital had OVERDOSED HER ON MORPHINE and had her so fucked up, that the next time I went to see her she was convinced I hadn’t come for a month, when I had JUST been there the week before.
The kidney didn’t get any better, and they finally decided to remove it. I blame the hospital for this. They weren’t taking proper care of her. They weren’t making sure she ate all of her food, they were messing up her medications.. it made me so angry.
We thought she’d be fine if they could just get that piece of shit kidney out of her, but she couldn’t go home. She was too weak. She got placed in a nursing home. I remember talking to her and her telling me she hated it because there were cats roaming the hallways. It’s not that she didn’t like cats, but she had become OCD about having a sterile environment for dialysis.
I remember it being around mothers day, only a day or two after being admitted to the nursing home. I was waiting to get my hair done, and decided to call her. I didn’t have a reason, just wanted to tell her I loved her. She said, “where did that come from?”
I wasn’t sure. We were NEVER the type of family to say “I love you”, we didn’t really hug, we didn’t show emotion other than sadness and anger. I just felt like saying it.
I told her I had Monday off, and said I could come and see her at the nursing home then. She told me no, not to come on Monday, which was weird to me, she had no reason to tell me no. She said “Come Tuesday, call me Tuesday morning for directions.”
I agreed, and hung up. That was the last time I ever spoke to her.
I called Tuesday morning, I was ready to leave and come and see her. A weird voice answered her cell phone number. I thought I had the wrong number so I hung up.
Her cell phone calls me back, I answer and it’s my Grandma. She asks if i’m alone.
“Yes, i’m alone”
“Call me back when you’re not alone”
I don’t know why I didn’t think anything of it. I just hung up and went about my day. In the back of my mind I knew something was wrong, something just didn’t feel right.
I called back later, when people were at my apartment.
“Your Mother passed away last night. I’m sorry”
“You’re joking right????”
“No honey, i’m not”
I dropped the phone. I couldn’t believe it. This wasn’t supposed to happen. She was supposed to get better. She wasn’t supposed to die.
To this day I still feel like i’m in denial. I’d still like to pick up the phone and call her. I wish she was here. I wish I could talk to her, ask for her advice, go shopping with her. I wish she’d been at my wedding, seen the birth of my first child.
I’ll never get any of that.
I feel her here though. Ever since I got pregnant with Holden. She’s been here, her presence. She’s been in my dreams.. I can just FEEL her around Holden. He talks to thin air and smiles.. I get in the car and hear her favorite song ALL THE TIME (and it is an old, and not often played song) lately.I’m due on her birthday. She’s still here. I know she wouldn’t be able to miss watching her grandchildren grow up, even if she’d hate to be called grandma.
So yes, I get upset when people question my relationship with her. I get very hurt when people think I wasn’t there for her. Maybe over the years, because I just don’t talk about it that often, people got the impression that I just didn’t care.
If I didn’t care, would I have wanted her wedding dress?
If I didn’t care, would her picture be sitting above my desk?
If I didn’t care, would I have her initials tattoed on my wrist, with “hope” on the other, because I know she would want me to keep hoping?
If I didn’t care, would I think about her all the time?
If I didn’t care, would I be naming my daughter (assuming I ever have one) after her?
Want to know how I knew Thomas was ‘the one’?
The last time I saw my mom alive, he was with me. She met him, she liked him. She asked me “Why are you still with Matt (ex boyfriend now)? He’s cute.”
I promised myself I would NEVER marry someone who had never met my mother. Even if only for a brief moment. Her judgment meant everything to me. She was a good judge of character.. as far as other people went. For herself? not so much. She deserved better than the crap she dated after my Dad.
My mom meant more to me, and means more to me than some people will ever understand. And I shouldn’t let that get to me, because my mom knew, and that should be all that matters.
If I didn’t care, would I have written this blog?
@Julieannefiu I still sing WRAPPED UP LIKE A DOUCHE. I think they're lying about the "real" lyrics
I sang SO many embarrassingly wrong song lyrics with such confidence. pic.twitter.com/Ww5TaAxY3r
@AndreaPerez0217 Not that I'm biased, but I highly recommend ;) Hope you enjoy!
Parenthood: you think it's gonna be all hugs & booboo kisses, but it's really cooking food everyone hates & scraping boogers off of walls.
School system: Here! Have a half day on Friday the 13th! Me: pic.twitter.com/Dy18C8R3dD
Spooking the Kids Without Scarring them for LIFE With Netflix! (and a giveaway!) goo.gl/fb/tkeWgB
Yes, I said it. I officially call SHENANIGANS!
Last night, while reading my blog, Thomas pointed out that my weird little growing-fetus-widget had changed from a wiry bird-looking thing to a more fleshed out bird-looking thing.
Since I hadn’t noticed, I decided to take a look for myself..
And that was when I noticed something out of place.
Something was not right with my fetus-widget.
Upon further inspection, I came across something highly disturbing.
My fetus-widget has what appears to be a red STUMP where its’ foot should be.
That can’t be right! Why would they give my fetus a stump for a foot?! I certainly didn’t put that in the specified parameters while creating the thing. It didn’t even have a box for “what malformation would you like your fetus to have?”
Even if it did, I don’t think I would have chosen “RED STUMP FOOT” from the list of options.. whatever those may have been.
This just isn’t normal. By now, my little parasite should have two feet, customized with ten toes. Maybe even toenails. A red pointy stump? I think not!
Disturbing, isn’t it? I’m highly confused.. and now i’m curious what’s going to happen with the next fetus-widget change. Adding another eye to the side of its’ head? Fusing its’ fingers together? Chopping off the other foot only to leave a red ugly stump?
WHAT IS NEXT?!?! STOP THESE SHENANIGANS EVIL FETUS-WIDGET!!!!
To take my mind off the ridiculous bullshit happening (or NOT happening) in my life.. let’s focus on my womb fruit, shall we?
Every day, I get these weird little thoughts in the back of my mind that tell me this is some huge joke, i’m not pregnant- I just eat salty foods and get bloated after meals.
Over 12 weeks pregnant with my second child, and still no symptoms that I can pinpoint and say “Yeah, definitely pregnant”
I’m smaller than I was with Holden.. by about half. I don’t count the after-meal-super-bloat as showing.
No morning sickness, no round ligament pain, no baby dreams.
Ever since that horrible bout of braxton hicks and 2 days of pain following, any little feeling of pregnancy I had disappeared.
It could be because I am approaching the “safe zone” a.k.a the second trimester, but those little thoughts keep telling me ‘the baby is gone.. or maybe it never existed’
Hell, the appointment when I found out I was pregnant was on Friday the 13th, with an impossible conception date and a due date on my late mother’s birthday..
My next appointment is April 1st, April Fools Day. Are they going to tell me it was some huge practical joke?
Ever since I found out that my appointment was on April Fools Day, I had this feeling something WEIRD was going to happen. it would fit with this pregnancy, tons of weirdness, so what’s it gonna be?
Baby with 2 heads? Baby disappeared? There was never a baby? Phantom baby? Ghost baby? Were they showing me videos of someone else’s ultrasound?
It’s not like i’m begging for morning sickness, it would just be nice to have some kind of confirmation from my body that I am in fact pregnant. The boobs are nice, but that’s not enough for me.
Maybe this kid needs to start knocking around my uterus like a soccer ball and that will finally put my mind at ease. Just very confusing not to have any of that “mother’s intuition” I keep hearing about. What i’ve got is a pokey bellybutton and painful boobs. Yay me!
According to my OBGYN, something like 60% of all pregnant women are slightly anemic (I know that’s technically spelled wrong but Firefox isn’t telling me how to spell it right so screw it). Personally, I think my anemia is inherited (if that’s possible), as I can always remember rubbing gold on my face and it leaving black trails behind (try it.. you’ll see what I mean if you’re low on iron).
I was put on iron pills with my last pregnancy, and don’t have too many horrible memories of them. They didn’t make me sick, took them whenever I wanted.. And though they were a little bit constipating- they weren’t anything a banana wouldn’t clear right up (who says bananas are constipating??)
Sure, they turn your poop dark creepy colors.. and make it feel like sandpaper pushing its’ way out of your ass- but other than that, no harm. Got rid of my headaches so I couldn’t complain much.
Figures, this time around I would once again be labeled as “slightly anemic” and prescribed iron pills. These are not the same ones I recall taking a few years back.
These say I can’t take them with food, I have to wait TWO HOURS after eating to take them. Who says i’m not eating every two hours? I’m pregnant and HUNGRY damnit.
That, I can deal with..
The horrid god awful mood altering constipation I can not. The head nurse suggested stool softeners as soon as she said I had to be on these stupid things.. but judging from previous experience I didn’t think i’d need any help- and at first I didn’t. Things were still moving along pretty regularly at first. After a week, it being irregular.. and a few days after that, it went to nothing. Total standstill of my colon.
Could this have been the cause of my Braxton Hicks? Possibly. I think it was more dehydration from chugging a soda, but who really knows.
After not pooping for an entire day (totally not like me, especially while pregnant), I didn’t sleep very well at all, and woke up the next morning in some pain. I can’t be positive what constipation pain feels like, I imagine it doesn’t feel good- so I called the OBGYN office. Always get stuck talking to the head nurse about my pooping situation. She suggests an enema.
UM, NO THANK YOU. I am not putting things up my butt, I don’t care if it IS just water.. it ain’t happenin’.
I decided the best plan of action for me would be to chug water all day. Being dehydrated can lead to constipation- so why not flush the shit out of my system.. literally?
Didn’t work. Still no poop. And by the end of the day I started to really feel like I needed to go.
The worst feeling in the world is having to shit, sitting down.. and nothing happens. You can feel it in your lower intestine, but it doesn’t budge. Not even any gas. Complete unsatisfaction.
So once again last night, I went to bed feeling bad, and woke up feeling bad. It basically feels like someone punched me in the stomach repeatedly and now i’m dealing with the bruising.
Today was a new day, though. I hadn’t taken my iron pill in something like 3 days.. because why take something if you can’t shit? Once I shit, I figured i’d take it again- rinse & repeat.
After breakfast, I got that oh-so familar feeling. This time, instead of being dissapointed, I was relieved, twice.. if you get what i’m saying.
Unfortunately, my nurse was wrong and it did NOT relieve the pain. I’m still hurting. So now I don’t blame the poop, I blame the baby. Baby is trying way too hard to make room and hurting my insides. Thanks a lot baby!
Poop is supposed to be this HUGE relief. I am sad it was not for me. Built it up to be this HUGE deal, thinking “ok.. i’ll poop.. and i’ll feel 150%!”
psh. I feel more like 45% right now.
Now I have to decide whether or not to take another stupid iron pill and possible get stuffed up for 3 damn days again and possibly start this whole vicious cycle over again.
Ohhh the joys of pregnancy.. it’s sort of like puberty in a way. Confusing, everything is new and weird and you’re constantly thinking “why am I getting that, there?”
Only, instead of getting pubes and boobs, you’re getting a ginormous belly and boobs.
The boob part is cool with me, not so much turning into a walking whale that waddles like a penguin that’s been constipated for a week.
I’ve been told about a million times that ‘every pregnancy is different’ which makes the situation even more confusing. You’d think that since you’ve been through it once before (or however many times) that you’d know exactly what to expect and when because it happened with the last pregnancy.
This pregnancy is about as different as my pregnancy with Holden as can be. It’s almost baffling to me, as nothing is happening as I thought it would.
Where to begin? (A lot of this I have mentioned before, but I feel like listing it again so DEAL!)
Morning sickness. With Holden my morning sickness started around week 2, before I even knew I was pregnant but kicked into full swing at week five. I never puked, it basically felt like a constant hangover, from morning until lunch time.. just felt nasty constantly. It continued until I was probably around 17 weeks along.
This new pregnancy, I had MAYBE 3 days of actual ‘morning sickness,’ where I felt like puking when I looked at my breakfast plate, but I thought it was because I had a drink the night before. This must have been around 4-5 weeks. Then for a week after that I felt a little gross in the evenings. Now I feel basically perfect, better than ever even.
“Showing” or “Bloating” I can recall being bloated with Holden, nothing near the amount I am now (as i’ve mentioned in previous posts). I feel absolutely enormous.
The weird part is, I was showing more in my pregnancy with Holden then I am with this pregnancy, still.
Porno Boobies Much to my dismay, I didn’t get boobs during my first pregnancy until the 3rd trimester. I went from a B to almost a D. I loved every second of it, even if it was short lived.
Luckily, I kept those bras, because here I am, 10 weeks pregnant, and can’t fit into anything but my pregnancy bras from Holden’s pregnancy. I love boobs as much as anyone else, but DAMN they hurt.. and I fear if they stretch out even more than the previous pregnancy, they’ll end up looking like bacon strips after I give birth.
Navel Popping The only reason I know the exact time this happened is because I kept a pregnancy journal (aka Belly Book) during Holden’s pregnancy. I sucked at filling it out all the time, but it says specifically that I lost my bellybutton at 18 weeks. I noticed my navel flattening during this pregnancy at about 4 weeks? It’s not totally gone, but it’s wide, and shallow, and towards the end of the day half of it pokes right out. That’s a good 8 weeks earlier. Ew.
Since I am only 1/4 of the way through my pregnancy, everything else is yet to be determined. I have no clue what to expect, if anything at all. Will morning sickness start kicking the shit out of me next week? Will this baby go Ninja on my insides like Holden did? Will I have horrible god awful Braxton Hicks from 26 weeks on? Will my blood pressure skyrocket?
I hate surprises. I’d love to squeeze out of this pregnancy unscathed and not have it as rough as I did with Holden, but I have this sneaking suspicion that it’s not going to go as swimmingly as i’d like. It’s just waiting to sneak up on me.. and I am not excited!
When it comes to finding out the gender of my growing.. fetus.. you’d think I would want to find out ASAP.
With Holden, I could not WAIT to find out. We even went as far as to schedule an early determination ultrasound with a 4D studio about 45 minutes away to find out his gender.
And when I found out that Holden was a boy, I was crushed. The tears literally welled up in my eyes. I really had my heart SET on a girl. Thomas and I honestly only ever wanted one child- just a girl. The pregnancy with Holden was so rough I wasn’t sure I ever wanted to go through it again, and I was pissed up until the moment he was born that he had a penis.
After a while I thought, “ok, we can try it again someday”.. and I thought we’d try the Shettles method of conceiving. Farther away from ovulation, girl, closer to ovulation, boy.
Obviously, things did not go as we had planned them, and I find myself 10 weeks pregnant with a baby I had no ‘choice’ in trying to conceive. And I mean that as in: I didn’t get to try out the Shettles method.. have NO idea when I ovulated, when I implanted.. or even when I had sex.
While I feel like it’s sort of destiny that I have a little girl (due to the fact that this baby is due on my mom’s birthday, was a complete shock because we didn’t have sex to where the sperm would logically be able to live long enough to fertilize, etc etc), knowing my luck.. this baby will have TWO penises. I feel sort of jinxed.
The absolute last thing I want to do is once again get my hopes up for a girl and have a boy. This time, though, I don’t think we’re going to even consider having more children. Two is one thing, but THREE? I just don’t think so. This is my last shot to have the little girl I always wanted, so how am I going to feel at 20 or so weeks if I go into an ultrasound and find out this baby is a boy? Devastated.
Of course I know i’m being selfish, people always say you should just wish for a “happy and healthy baby” but come on.. I’ve never known someone to not get their hopes up on one gender or the other. Especially when you plan on it being your last child.
I can’t help but to feel the way I feel, I want a girl- what’s so wrong with that?
So what do I do? Do I just not find out to avoid the dissapointment and anger throughout the rest of my pregnancy if this baby happens to be a boy..
or give birth and be pissed and happy at the same time?
I’m probably going to end up finding out at 20 weeks like you’re supposed to, just to be able to prepare (I hate being unprepared) but i’m struggling with all the ‘what if’s.
As far as old wives tales predicting gender? They’re bullshit.
Almost EVERY SINGLE ONE swore Holden would be a girl, and he is obviously not a girl.
The only thing that rang true was the fact that I carried low.. but i’m 5’9″ and long waisted, I don’t think it’s possible for me to carry high.
I went and looked anyways, and most of them claim this baby will be a boy. Blah. So if they claimed Holden would be a girl and he’s a boy, does that mean that because this one is claimed to be a boy, it will be a girl? Who the hell knows. I should stop looking altogether. Their judgement has the same damn odds as flipping a coin. 50% accuracy is pretty good, can only be one or the other!
There’s one thing i’m putting a little weight behind. After Holden was born, last year I believe, I emailed a “psychic” and asked when i’d be pregnant again and what gender the girl would be.
She responded with “In the coming year you will find yourself pregnant with a healthy girl.”
At the time I laughed and thought “BULLSHIT! No way am I getting pregnant next year!”
and look at me now. Odd coincidense, no?
Regardless of what any of thse dumb gender predictors say, or what anyone tells me about how I should just want a healthy baby regardless of gender- my feelings are still the same. If this baby is a boy I will be totally crushed (and totally pissed considering we have sold practically ALL of Holden’s clothes), and i’m most likely going to go through the gender ultrasound with my hands over my eyes like i’m watching a scary movie.
Before I found out I was pregnant, the ONLY thing I ever noticed that I thought was a tad off was my bellybutton.
I looked down and said aloud “hmm.. that looks a little shallow,” but my bellybutton has really never been quite the same since my pregnancy with Holden. It got the short end of the stick when it came to stretchmarks (one up the top, one down the bottom, like a damn compass.)
Currently I am just shy of 10 weeks pregnant, and my bellybutton is history. It’s gone.
Even when i’m not full of gas water and air, it’s flat.. but right now, at the end of the day, it’s sticking out like a turkey in the oven that’s done.
Well, I ain’t ready to pop another baby out, and bellybuttons aren’t supposed to pop out this early!
Mine never really did even with Holden. Only when I sneezed or strained did I get an outtie, otherwise it was totally creepy, flat and almost seemed sheer. I avoided touching it in fear my intestines would come spilling out.. or Holden would.. or both.
Still, that didn’t happen until later in pregnancy the first time around.
If i’m hardly showing, how is my bellybutton gone already? Am I carrying this tiny little bean higher? Are my insides already making way for this little turd to completely take over?
It’s now that I really wish i’d changed my bellybutton ring the second I found out about the pregnancy, because now I have the regular old metal one in.. and when bellybutton decides it’s time to poke out- it gets a nice little indent from the bar in it. UNCOMFORTABLE to say the least. Hell, it’s downright painful.
Putting in the plastic maternity belly ring is not pleasant. Have to thread the stupid ball yourself, not fun to do when your button is already poking out and you have to literally work around it.
Now I guess i’m just waiting for the linea negra to show up and i’ll be almost completely grossed out with myself. My dark little line is crooked.. and i’m so damn pale that it’s just really not cute on me.
Oh the joys of pregnancy! Bring on the leaky tits and cankles!
My family… is a strange one.
You tell them something sad, they just kind of shrug their shoulders, silently smile that it didn’t happen to them, and move on. You tell them something exciting, they give you a strange look and struggle to get out a “congratulations” and move on.
There are a few exceptions in my family, but the majority doesn’t give a crap about anything that happens to you unless it has to do with them.
That’s the thing with family. When it comes to other family, they’re pretty selfish. Let’s not get angry about it, it’s a fact of nature. We as humans tend to take advantage of the people we know aren’t going to go anywhere. Family can’t exactly divorce you. They can be mad and hold a grudge (as mine looooooves to do) but they’ll still be your family, you’ll still see them at family functions, they’ll eventually come around again and you’ll end up being on good terms- so why not crap all over them?
Friends can come and go as they please. They have their own family to shit all over.
I’m getting away from the point.
I did not expect my family to be jumping for joy about the new pregnancy. Holden was PLANNED and they weren’t even excited about him, so an unplanned pregnancy? I expected to be stoned (and i’m not talking about getting high).
Going as far as to point fingers will end up getting me in trouble, so i’ll just list a few reactions I have received so far..
but to be totally honest, most of my family- who I know has heard through the grapevine, hasn’t even bothered to say anything to me personally about it. Perhaps because I didn’t tell them directly? I didn’t tell ANYONE directly. No one is special here.
Back to the focus:
Reaction #1: blank. then asks if i’m going to get my tubes tied after this one.
wow… just… wow.
Reaction #2: says nothing to me personally, but I overhear them discussing it with others, and telling others to congratulate me.
gee, thanks! HEY, I’M THE ONE WHO’S PREGNANT! TALK TO ME ABOUT IT. THEY CAN’T TELL YOU ANYTHING ABOUT ME OR MY UTERUS.
Reaction #3: shock. pure shock. that is all.
Not even a fake congrats? I’ll take a fake congrats over nothing.
I could go on, but I think we all see where this is going.
Don’t take this as pure complaining.. it’s only a LITTLE bit of complaining. It’s mostly just a commentary on my family.
My friends may hate children and never want any of their own but they at least can muster up a fake congratulations after the shock has worn off.
I don’t need real excitement or congratulations, hell I don’t feel either of those for myself either. It’s just kind of common decency to do it for others though, isn’t it?
Unless someone’s popping out their 10th kid and can hardly afford or control the 9 they already have- aren’t congratulations always in order?
Just wait until I get really excited about this pregnancy.. all hell will break loose if no one else follows suit. You don’t cross an angry fat swollen preggo, always a bad idea.
In the wake of a huge announcement, you’d expect to get reactions out of people, right? Phone calls, comments, emails.. the works.
Happy, sad, angry, neutral, doesn’t matter which way the reaction swings- you still expect to get SOMETHING, right??
I guess I thought when everyone found out I was pregnant with #2 so soon, there would be a bit of a freak out. I sure as hell freaked out.. but there was nothing. An email or two, one text message.. and that was it.
What does that mean? Does it mean that I have grown so far apart from most of my friends that they just don’t care what happens to me anymore?
It certainly can’t be that people just expected me to become a baby factory, because no way in hell is that happening. One oopsie is enough for me to take extreme precautions once this one pops out.
It’s just odd to log into my email, my myspace, after announcing another baby is gonna be popping out of me in a matter of months and hardly anyone even bats an eyelash. Or perhaps they’re busy talking shit behind my back like people have the tendency to do (ahem, DAD).
Perhaps I should look on the bright side- no one saying anything means I don’t get any emails or comments saying “WTF WHY?! GET AN ABORTION!” because those types of emails are not fun to get.
It’s kind of like someone talking shit about your mom. Only YOU can do that, when someone else does.. you want to kick them straight in the throat. I feel the same way about my oopsie-bean. Plus, i’m growing the damn thing so I feel even more attached to it.
You think you figure out who your real friends are once you pop ONE kid out and they stop comin around.. try getting knocked up with #2, even more start dropping like flies.
I hope they get pregnant.. with triplets.. and blow their snatches out. YES, EVEN THE DUDES.
And don’t go blaming my attitude on pregnancy hormones.. I just feel like being a bitch.