ready or not

like it or not, this baby’s coming. soon. like really f*cking soon…like in less than 24 hours. and even after 12 days of lying on my ass in the hospital waiting for this day to come, i’m still not remotely close to being ready…

wait a sec, the lil sh*t's coming tomorrow!?!

what’s wrong with me? well to be honest, i’m scared. what if this thing’s not cooked enough in here to come out yet? he’ll only be 36 weeks on thursday. that’s still considered to be premature (though of course i know lots of babies who were born much earlier and are fine) and i’m not thrilled about having a baby in the NICU. i wanna at least be able to hold the lil sh*t…jeesh.

then i’m a lil nervous about the whole c-section thing. clearly i haven’t bled to death yet, but don’t worry, there’s still a chance of it happening on the operating table. the doc told me it would go in this order: blood transfusion, then removing my uterus (for a hysterectomy), then coma, then croaking. i dunno about you, but that doesn’t sound like a very fun thursday morning.

although i gotta say it might not be that bad to slip into just a teensy-weensy coma for a few minutes. a) i’d probably get a great blog post out of it, and 2) maybe puddn would appreciate me a lil more if i was a goner. then again, he’d probably be too busy planning a celebratory hot tub party. d*ckhead.

but the thing i’m most afraid of is having 2 freakin’ babies. i know, lu’s a big-girl now—or so we tell her—but let’s be real here, if the kid still sh*ts in a diaper, that means she’s still a baby.

and now i have to bring home a newborn and start the entire process all over again…the sleepless nights, the fear of SIDS, colic, more sleepless nights, breastfeeding, pumping…dear god, i have to start pumping again. okay, i’m officially starting to freak my sh*t.

what the hell were we thinking?

seriously, i can barely handle having 1 kid, and my stinky’s a lil angel. lord knows this new baby’s clearly a troublemaker—and how can he not be when he’s a freakin’ clancey boy? oy. and vey.

and top on of all that, i’ve become an idiot. seriously. puddn always says that when we met, i was really smart…then asks me why i’m such a dope now. and i have no idea what happened, but for once, he’s right. i’m a complete moron.

like a few weeks ago, i took stinks to my doc appointment, and afterward, i stuck her in the carseat, gave her a snack, and off we went home. a few minutes later, she started giggling like crazy, saying, “hiiiii mommy!” i turned around, and there she was, bouncing around in the backseat. jaysus, i hadn’t even buckled her in the carseat…i pulled over and started bawling. how on earth can i take care of 2 kids when i can’t even handle 1? omg, i’m so f*cked.

and on top of everything else, i don’t even like newborns. so what if i don’t love this kid as much as i do my marinky? i mean, there’s absolutely no way in hell i can…i’m totally (yes, i know, a lil weirdly) obsessed with my sweet girl. so i’m sorry, new kid, you’re screwed.

plus, i’m pissed at the lil guy for being such a gigantic pain in my ass from the very beginning. with stinks, i had a dreamy, perfect pregnancy. this one was the exact opposite—a total sh*tshow: IVF, bleeding, placenta previa, bedrest, bleeding, hospital bedrest, bed pans, more bleeding and now a friggin’ c-section. it’s horsesh*t i tell you. if an adult was ever this much of an asshole to me, i would’ve punched him in the face by now.

i asked my nurses last night if anyone’s ever gotten drunk in the hospital after a c-section. cuz i’m thinking ‘bloody placenta marys’ all around.

mommy, come home! daddy sucks at being a mom!
oh sh*t, he wasn't supposed to hear me say that.
no offense, but i think you've gotten more wrinkles since you've been in here.
1-2-3...jump on mommy's belly!
juuuust kidding...i'll just tickle torture the baby!
i'm bored, can i at least play on the ipad? jeesh.
daddy lets me play on it for hours and hours.
let's at least go for a ride and get the f*ck outta here!
weeeeee! we're bustin' outta this joint!
can't this piece of sh*t go any faster?
follow me, mama! we'll run for the hills!
oh damn, she can't run anywhere with this giant beer belly.
oh great, back in the room...now this is a barrel of fun.
i'll do what dad and i do together..zone out to the TV.
can we name the baby caillou? please, mama?
just please hurry up and come home to me! your husband sucks.
is that a heart beating or just gas?
let's make a break for it again!
bring it baby. i'll always be the pretty one.

Follow tulipandthelma on Twitter

Follow Me on Pinterest

if you like t&t, please “like” me on facebook. thanks!

 

This entry was posted in bedrest, breast milk, breastfeeding, curse words, cursing baby, f bombs, fertility, first-time mom, frat dude, husband, IVF, neurotic mom, OCD, placenta previa, pregnancy, pregnant at 40, toddler who curses and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to ready or not

  1. Samantha says:

    Good luck, I hope everything goes well!

    (FWIW, my c-section and recovery were a total breeze, and my babies were born at 37w0d, were teeny but didn’t have any NICU time. The only downside to being small and early were not being good at latching and eating.)

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

You may use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <strike> <strong>