I’m knocked up, if I’m going to get straight to the point. The circumstances surrounding how that came to pass aren’t nearly as important as what the freak is going on about 2 inches below my belly button.
Pregnancy is a bunch of different words. Words like: beautiful, sacred, magical, feminine, give me all the flowers and white flowy dresses because I am a god damn Mother Earth, goddess, baby-making machine. It looks a lot like this…
And then there are words like: emotional, crazy, horrible, why in the fuck is this happening to me, what, what the hell is that!? And can I please take the red pill instead? And that my friends looks a lot like this…
Seriously, I am not the same person. Physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually…Mercedes went somewhere else for the next 5 months. I’m hoping that means that through all this I “find myself”…otherwise, holy shit.
Facts of pregnancy (because I know this shit now):
1. Bye sleep. As in “bye Felicia”. Yeah, that bitch is the irrelevant entity you just ain’t got time for anymore. Oh, well I’m only talking about at night, you know, when you SHOULD be sleeping. If it’s not night, then sleep will show up, un-announced, uninvited and looking to bitch slap you all the hours that have light in them. It’s really quite incredible…eye roll.
2. You will eat Chipotle and casually read the words on the take-out bag and then cry all the tears you have in your body and be so fucking filled sadness that you just can’t live anymore. Or you’ll kill a squirrel with your car, accidentally, and then proceed to have the biggest meltdown in your life. Or how about one minute you go from holding your belly and dreaming about what your kid is going to look like to full on terror because you feel like you’re the only person on the planet and how in the fuck did you get here, in this moment, what if you die during labor, what if the kid hates you, did you just ruin your life, it’s 4 am and you want hollandaise sauce and you have nothing to make the motherfucking hollandaise sauce and you have to pee, back to caressing your belly and picturing how ridiculously good looking your kid is going to be. All in like 4 seconds. Then you’ll have a panic attack because you felt something weird and then Google every version of “what the fuck was that” and then find every horrible and terrifying pregnancy gone wrong story every written. Yeah, emotions. Not so normal anymore.
3. The feeling of vomiting and lying on a cold floor to comfort your sweaty, nauseas body will become like putting on your most fluffiest robe and bunny slippers. Because for some reason, although puking your guts out 20 times in one day because you a) smelled something weird b) ate something weird c) ate anything d) drank anything e) simply existed, sends you right to crazy town, you will also feel a surge of calm and “everything is well with my womb”. Why? Because is pregnant women need fucking proof we’re pregnant, ok!?
4. Everyone will have an opinion about your body, baby, emotional state, how you should be feeling, blah blah blah. Politely smile, tell them to fuck the fuck off (in your head, of course) and walk away. At this stage, maybe for the first time ever in your life, you realize: No body else fucking matters in this. You are carrying this baby, you are the mother and you decide what, who, when, where, and why. And if anyone has a problem with that, well, I’ve included some healthy dialogue above.
5. Responsibility is no joke. And it happens before the baby arrives. From owning the fact that you are now with child due to an err in judgement down to making sure you are drinking enough water and staying stress free, baking baby will suddenly make you grow up and step up to the plate. And you’ll relish in that feeling of having a purpose.
6. The person who helped create the third entity now growing inside your uterus will become the only thing in life you’ve ever cared about critiquing the shit out of and freaking out about when he so much as breathes. Human emotional punching bag? Walking suggestion box? Just chalk it up to your projection of your own fears about parenting…and also the fact that he’s a male. I mean, obviously there’s room for improvement.
7. Cravings will make or break you. Can’t get your hands on jack in the box tacos at 1am? Get ready for 24 hours of depression. Satisfy the intense need for jalepno cheese dip with grapes? Life is amazing and you’re gonna be the best fucking mom ever! Seriously, there’s no gray area here. Either you get the food the baby wants or things get murdered. And when you don’t get it, instead of breaking the law, go journal that shit and find something else to distract yourself until you get the next craving otherwise you will break the law.
8. You form some weird bond with all pregnant women all over the world. You’re able to sniff each other out and you now care, most fervently, about how far along she is, what she’s having, how she hates every body too and it’s the most natural thing ever. Sharing intimate details with a stranger. Pregnant lady wolf pack, that shit is real.
9. You feel guilty for ever thinking or saying that you never want to have kids or that people with kids are so boring or God my friend is never around since she had a kid. Because all the shit you used to do like countless fireball shots and nights of karaoke, being spontaneous and full of energy and up for anything and everything else in between doesnt fucking matter anymore. I know it doesn’t happen at the same time for every woman, but at some point, you are at total peace with everything you ever did in your past and you just want to embrace with every fiber in you this wonderfully, terrifying, gift you’ve been given.
Stay tuned, I’ve got 24 more weeks of this craziness…