last week i wrote about the top 12 crappiest parts about being preggers—that was a total cinch. but that got me thinking…could i come up with 12 good things about being knocked up? lemme tell ya, it was a helluva lot harder…
yah, i know i like to complain a lot. so sue me. most of the time it’s in jest…well, kinda. but i feel like i’ve really been whining a lot lately: my feeeeet hurt, my legs hurt, my back hurts, my butt’s too big, puddn’s an idiot, i’m getting varicose veins, i can’t sleep, my feet, my feeeet…you get the idea.
so since it’s mostly been such a giant pain in the uterus so far, i thought it might be a nice change of pace to yap about some positive things about this pregnancy…or at least give it a shot:
thick of it
i know i look like i’m trying to be a teenager at the mall in the ’80s (‘cept without the hair spray, natch), cuz my hair is so f*cking crazy-long, but the good news is it’s soooo thick. when you’re preggers, you basically don’t shed any hair—that is ‘til about 4 months after you have the baby and then it all starts to fall out and you basically start balding. gee, i can’t f*cking wait for that part again. oh wait, this is supposed to be a positive post…ooops.
i totes love feeling this baby moving around. it’s seriously the coolest feeling…and when i’m freaking out, it’s reassuring to know he’s still alive ‘n’ kickin’ ‘n’ punchin’ in there. plus, it’s a cool party trick to show peeps my belly moving from the outside…like some kinda alien is trying to burst out, which i guess is actually sorta true.
they’re real and they’re spectacular
i have giant boobs. i feel like i talk about ‘em a lot, but that’s cuz it’s insane how these things could grow practically overnight from small b-cups to gigantic size d funbags. and after the baby gets here, they’re gonna balloon even more when they fill up with leche. last time they were like freakshow porn boobs. i won’t tell you all the nasty things puddn kept begging me to do with them (which just didn’t seem right when i was feeding a baby with ‘em). anyway, i gotta enjoy these suckers before they shrivel up again like empty tube socks.
pregnant chicks get a lot of attention. this must be how celebs and super-hot chicks feel in normal life. but there’s something about a giant preggers belly that makes people smile and wanna chat you up, hold the door, tell you you’re glowing, carry sh*t for you and let you cut the line. i don’t even mind going to f*cking toys ‘r us just cuz i can park in the stork parking spots right up front. once again, i need to enjoy it now…once you have a baby, all those nice people turn into raging assholes who want nothing to do with you or your crying brat.
being preggers is the only time you can really stuff your fat face to your heart’s content. and people actually encourage it. the truth is you’re only supposed to eat like 300 calories more, but who the f*ck pays attention to that? if i wanna eat a gluten-free cookie (or 3) for breakfast, i’m gonna…apparently the baby wants it. if i’m craving pretzels and dark chocolate every, single night after dinner, i’m gonna shove ‘em in my face. i gotta do it now cuz once again, after the baby comes, peeps won’t say i’m glowing—i’ll just be fat.
no periods. period.
i think that’s pretty self-explanantory. when you’re knocked up, you don’t need to worry your pretty little head about tampons, pads, or god forbid, leakage…that is, unless you’re me and keep bleeding anyway, and have to run your high-maintenance uterus to the emergency room. but when i was preggers with stinks, i didn’t see a speck of blood for 2 years…cuz your aunt flow won’t pay a visit ‘til after you stop breastfeeding either. it’s genius.
puddn isn’t quite as much of a d*ckhead as usual when i’m preggers. believe it or not, if i beg him about 57 times, he’ll even rub my aching feet and legs for about 30 seconds. and he usually does the dishes these days, which is nice. when i asked him what should be on this list, he said, “how your awesome husband waits on you hand and foot.” oh please…he’s still a huge jackhole. like the other day when he was working from home, i asked if he’d help me for 2 minutes by putting stinks and the heavy diaper bag (i’m not supposed to lift either of them) in the car. his response: “ugh, pretend i’m not here, janz…just do whatever you’d do if i was at work.” i know…what a knight in shining armor. imagine how he is when i’m not knocked up.
little boy blue
let’s be honest: shopping for boy clothes blows ass. all i wanna do is buy more dresses and bows and ruffles and pink sh*t. thank gawd i have a girl already cuz boy stuff in general is just drab and boooring. but on the bright side, i will have a new nursery (it’s gonna be built on the balcony in our master boudoir) that i’ll get to decorate—and decor-ing a room (any room) is always awesome, even if it’s blue.
seeing is believing
the next best thing to feeling the baby kickin’ around is seeing him move in an ultrasound. holy crap, it’s pretty incredible. at my super-duper sonogram appointments with my high-risk doc, we can see every rib, his brain, his tiny fingers, his lil dong…everything. and it’s crazy to see—and feel—him move at the same time. and it’s even cooler to see stinks point at the ultrasound projection and say “baby boy!”
yesterday i took 2 naps—2! when was the last time you did that? when you’re preggers, everyone always tells you to sit your fat ass down and put your feet up. and when i have a varicose vein that just popped out (ugh), i don’t mind if i do. i can be as lazy as i want and just blame the pregnancy—and it’s the perfect excuse to cancel plans if i don’t wanna do something. who’s gonna argue with an overly hormonal pregnant chick?
i always wonder what stinks thinks of my growing belly. she knows to poke at it (or my boobs) and say “baby boy,” but how much does she get it? at any rate, it’s adorable…and she loves to tell strangers (those nice ones who chat me up) “the baby boy is in dere.” and her new favorite book is about being a big sister. she points at the drawings and says “lulu and baby boy.” and just this morning, she woke up and asked “is the baby boy coming?” dear god, i hope not yet, not for 9 ½ more weeks, kid. and then poor stinky will get a hard lesson in jealousy. oy.
well there you have it…i couldn’t think of 12 good things, so i settled with 11. but that’s better than none, right? so even though this high-risk, high-maintenance, high-horsesh*t pregnancy’s been really rough so far, i guess there are actually some okay parts.
check out my 27-week pregnancy video where i yap about naming the baby on YOUTUBE!!! and my new vlog series!
have you seen puddn’s dumb new “my wife lies” blog post? he gives his stupid side of the story about the red solo cups! ridiculous!