A Message From Our Sponsors

I have just navigated my way through the first trimester of pregnancy. Yes, we were “trying” (insert visual here of a very sterile environment filled with thermometers, lab coats and safety goggles). No, we did not think it would “take” because we were a little out of the “zone.” (I will stop with the “quotes” here in a minute.) So, it came as a bit of a surprise for both of us.

I am happy to report after much teeth-gnashing and therapy bills over my vomit phobia, I never puked, not once. No morning sickness. For most of you, you don’t care and have already stopped reading. But, to a pregnant person, it is like the purple heart of suffering. Your pregnancy is judged and graded on a “how much you suffered” scale. Those of us who felt great, no morning sickness, no hormonal tantrums, etc. get zero sympathy. Behind our backs, people talk about us as if we just cheated on a test. Those who did suffer, however, get varying degrees of medaldom. Those who are simply nauseous in the morning, a small plastic pin. Those who are nauseous all day, a small metal pin. Those who barf every morning for four months straight, a large metal pin embellished with baked enamel. And, for those who yakked every day the whole pregnancy, it’s the same as the last one, but it’s adorned with a ribbon and it’s smashed into your breast like an Air Force hazing ritual. Oh, and if you are skinny to start with, they hate you even more.

My pants stopped fitting around Halloween, but I had to keep up the act so the leeches at work wouldn’t catch on. But, once I told everyone, they all said they knew because my boobs were huge. Who knew that so many bitches were checking me out everyday? I was even super-careful to truss myself up like Hilary Swank in “Boys Don’t Cry,” but clearly that didn’t work. Welcome to Dollywood, folks!

So, the kiddo is due in June, and according to all the fucking know-it-alls, our life is going to change drastically. Boy, if I hear that one more time, I am going to cut somebody’s balls off. (Hormonal tantrum, me? NO!) Well, DUH, our lives are going to change. I exist in a world where all my friends are on their second and third child or are done with it all together, leaving our child with no playmates because of the huge age gap. I have seen the changes, people. I GET IT.

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