It Ain't All Gravy



Pregnancy is wonderful, except when it isn't.

I have anxiety about labor.

I went to my first Lamaze class on Monday night. I think it wigged me out. The instructor started the class by telling us to ignore all the delivery room horror stories that we've heard because every woman's experience is different. Then she spent the remainder of the class going over complications like meconium, preeclampsia, and placental abruption. It didn't help that Jakob and I were seated beneath the poster that diagramed an episiotomy.

I cry 8 times a day. I pee twice as many times as I cry.

My feet have grown a shoe size.

I feel like Violet Beauregard. I'm a colossal blueberry. I need Oompa Loompas to roll me to the Juicing Room and put me out of my misery.

I was waiting for the bus the other day and four little boys were at the bus stop. They were all about 10 years old. They were having a spitting contest. I wouldn't have cared except that they were spitting on folks waiting for the bus, like me. They were using words like, "bitch." It made me worry about being a crummy mom and having a brat for a kid.

I got up at 3:11am this morning to write an angry e-mail to the people at Target regarding my baby registry. Stuff keeps becoming "unavailable," or isn't being efficiently processed. I should've gone with 'Babies R Us.' Anyway, the clickity-clack of the computer keys awoke my sweet, kind, lovely husband. My patient, caring, attentive husband quietly got out of bed and shut the bedroom door so he could get a little shuteye. I can't tell you exactly why this sent me into a hysterical bitchy fit, but it did. I proceeded to yell at my charming, handsome, considerate husband for no good reason what-so-ever. And how does this half-awake, bewildered man respond? He coaxes me back into bed and rubs my tummy for over an hour as I whimper and eventually fuss myself to sleep. Saint Jakob.

Don't get me wrong. I'm blessed. I'm excited for this kid to pop out. But sometimes I feel like a big, whiny pod that has no control over my body or my feelings.

Whaaaaaaa. I can't even eat soft cheese! I LOVE soft cheese!!!

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Hi Cutie,
You look soo blue :(
I got blue too. It's to be expected. It went away though. You look BEAUTIFUL. Like GRAVY. Maybe if it would stop raining in California your blues would go bye bye. Dad got his gift. You should have sent earplugs for me.
Say hi to the best husband in the world.
LOVE
GRANNEMARIE

Nicole Charbonneau White said...

HA HA HA!!! Thanks, Ma. I love you :)

Anonymous said...

Oh honey I'm so teary for you right now!

I'm gonna give you a ring ;-)