Yes, I know, “poor poor me” and the whole “I should be grateful to even BE pregnant” type complaints that will be running through certain peoples heads… at this point- I don’t care!
I’ll say it loud and (not so)proud- I HATE BEING PREGNANT! And i’m pretty sure pregnancy reciprocates that feeling.
I am seriously not meant to carry children.. at least my body doesn’t think so. Holden’s pregnancy was miserable for 75% of it, this one is more like 95% miserable. I can’t even remember the last day where I felt even relatively good.
Today I think takes the cake on the miserable scale. It started out pretty good. No incident with breakfast, I exercised a little (while avoiding ANYTHING that would irritate my pelvis), ate lunch without a problem and then took a quick nap with Holden.
As soon as I woke up things went downhill fast. Not only was my pelvis hurting so badly that I could hardly hobble myself off of the bed- but I knew as soon as I got Holden to the bathroom after he got out of bed that I was going to be sick.
And not just sick.. but SICK. Sweating, shaking, clutching the toilet and praying your intestines don’t come out of your ass kind of sick.
Since it’s happened to me so many times before (but always after Holden’s in bed and I can be sick in peace), I thought I might cut it off at the pass by chugging water to rehydrate myself and maybe, just MAYBE, stop it before the floodgates had a chance to open.
Unfortunately, it didn’t help.
Being that sick when you’re home alone with a toddler never seems like a good thing to me. Especially since Holden has had a fascination with shoving his fake food as far into his mouth as it will go the past few days. I decided as I cried on the toilet (yep, cried, and maybe hyperventilated a little from the pain) and tried to keep an eye on Holden that this situation just wasn’t going to work.
I sent Thomas a frantic text message to come home immediately, which he did… but Thomas works 45 minutes away in very little traffic. Being a Friday with bad weather, it could have been a lot longer.. so I started to panic.
I got myself off of the toilet and sat on the couch trying to breathe through the pain and drink more water- and that’s when the chain reaction began. Whatever was going on inside of me seemed to irritate my uterus to its’ breaking point. Painful braxton hicks one after another. And the braxton hicks? Those irritated baby into doing barrel rolls, front flips & karate kicks.
That’s when I decided to say ‘Fuck it! I can’t do this!’ and called my brother, who only lives a few minutes down the street, to come and keep an eye on Holden while I made runs to the bathroom.
Go fig it took him just as long to come over as it took Thomas to get home, and by THAT time- I had nothing left to poop out. That didn’t stop Mr. Braxton Hicks from coming every 5-10 minutes, which made baby even angrier.. so I was glad to have people there to distract Holden.
Even hours later as I sit here and type out this blog, the braxton hicks haven’t let up. Most people would probably have called their doctor by now, but I know better. They aren’t increasing in intensity, I feel no pressure down below- this is just how my body chooses to react to being pregnant and all the hormones that come along with it.. and i’m SO DONE DEALING WITH IT.
Give me just ONE day minus the pelvic pain, violent poops and baby doing barrel rolls and I seriously won’t complain anymore. ONE DAY, that’s all I ask.
My body is an angry anal retentive landlord and would love nothing better than to evict this unruly child-tenant.
Come October 1st, i’ll be totally on board with that idea… for now, I just wish they’d learn to get along and leave me alone so I can get through the rest of this damn pregnancy in peace and never have to do it again.
Weird Things you do for your kids but not Strangers goo.gl/fb/oVuwvG
Tis the season! pic.twitter.com/5VgMLnt22E
I am weak pic.twitter.com/LYdRQ6EZcC
You know that feeling when you don't chew a chip all the way and it cuts you all the way down and you swear it's gonna kill you, but you go ahead have another right after? That's what it's like when you decide to have another kid.
For any parent who's ever had a kid who thinks they're more grown up than they are... and proves themselves wrong-- this story is for you holdinholden.com/2017/12/10-g…
In honor of National Breastfeeding Awareness Month, I thought i’d take some time out from writing about poop and braxton hicks to talk about breastfeeding.
Well, not so much breastfeeding as it is the peer pressure surrounding it.
I’m no breastfeeding enthusiast, I don’t do it- and my reasons are my own. I don’t really feel as though it’s anyone’s business but mine as to the reasons behind why I ‘chose’ formula. At the same time, I would never try to convince someone to formula feed over breastfeeding.
If you wanna whip out a tit to give your kid a snack, more power to you! I think it’s fabulous, and I actually think it’s kind of ballsy (especially if you do it in public)
If you choose to pump, bottle feed, formula feed.. whatever- as long as your kid is happy and healthy I really have no negative opinion on the matter at all.
Unfortunately, others do not think along the same lines. The judgment and peer pressure that will come to a woman who chooses to formula feed over breastfeed, REGARDLESS of whether it was a choice or another reason (no milk production, medication, whatever) is intense. And it bugs me to no end.
When I had Holden and went the formula route, there were a lot of dirty looks & stink eyes and condescension. From nurses in the hospital, to lactation specialists, to our first pediatrician.. it seemed like everyone had something to say about it. The worst offenders were granola crunching hippy moms and older generations who have that whole mindset of “Well, I know better than you because I raised kids 20 years ago! AND I walked 20 miles to and from school every day, uphill both ways in the snow!”
I’m not saying ALL breastfeeding moms are this way. Most of my friends who have kids breastfeed and they could care less what I do and don’t do.. but all those negative Nancys get to you after a while. Making you think you’re doing something wrong, that your kid won’t be as smart or as healthy, you won’t have as close of a relationship with your child.. they’ll throw the whole book at you.
Why? I’m not sure. I don’t know why it matters so much that someone else isn’t lending their boob as a 24 hour diner.
Now that Holden is older and off of formula.. to me, all those negative things I was told about formula in the first place and how breastfeeding is the only way to go seem ridiculous to me. Take one look at Holden and you’ll see that. Happy, healthy, is RARELY sick and I consider him my best friend (which I haven’t decided yet whether that is sad or sweet, but I digress). While i’ve still gotten some crap about not breastfeeding this time, people can’t use the same scare tactics on me as they did last time- because all I have to do is point at Holden as proof positive that formula is not “THE DEVIL!”
My mom let me snack on her boob and i’m always sick, my immune system sucks ass.. and I wouldn’t consider myself smarter than someone who was formula fed by any means. And she and I did NOT have a close relationship (not until I was 18 and out of the house anyways.)
Basically what i’m saying is that you’re not going to ruin your child by opting not to breastfeed. Bad things can happen regardless of what you do, all depending on the kid, the situation, the genes and about a billion other factors.
I get so mad listening to other formula feeds moms getting crapped all over for not being a booby buffet. While i’m sure it happens the other way around too (staunch formula feeders pooping on breastfeeders), I think formula feeders get the shit end of the stick for the most part.
“Breast is best!” don’tcha know?
No, I don’t have to hear whispers behind my back about pulling out a boob in public to feed my kid, but they don’t have to hear that they’re ruining their child by not doing so.
This whole rant started because of an innocent comment a friend made about boiling bottles and receiving a boat load of “YOU NEED TO BREASTFEED INSTEAD!” comments in return. Who says that boiling bottles automatically means she isn’t breastfeeding? And did she ask for your opinion on what she is or isn’t going to do with her boobs? Are you going to tell her how exactly, step by step, to raise her child next? While you’re at it would you care to comment on her sex life and how the positions she’s using are all wrong? ‘Cause she totally asked for advice on that, too.
What it all comes down to is that moms need to respect other moms, period. It’s gotten out of control how high the wall has been built between formula feeders and breastfeeders, for no good reason at all other than haughty–taughty opinions and people thinking they know what’s best for you.
Your boobs are your boobs, your children are your children- and what you do with all of that is up to you and no one else. Can we just leave it at that and stop the shit flinging? No one cares what the other thinks, so why even bother?
To quote an incredibly over-used and annoying saying: ‘Can’t we all just get along???’