It will be a fond farewell…

Things I am ready to leave behind:

– Figuring out how to install a carseat

– The smell of Evening Primrose Oil

– The taste, texture and smell of Source of Life Prenatal vitamins (picture swamp water)

– Random bursts of pain from moving or turning in a way that my body doesn’t like

– Feeling 19 inches of baby stretch out like a starfish

– Sporadic bouts of heartburn that feel like a lethal combination of fire and swords in my esophagus

– People staring at my stomach then up at my face and giving me the “pity look”

– Feeling my pelvic bone pop like an old man’s knees every time I sit or stand

– The daily questions about my status: “when are you due?” “still haven’t had that baby yet?” “how are you feeling?” “when do you think you’ll have it?”

– Not being able to answer those questions with the truth: “the due date doesn’t mean crap” “yes, I had the baby but I just stayed fat for the hell of it” “i was feeling fine until you asked me and now i want to hit someone with my fist or a large bat” “i think i’ll be pregnant forever”

– Hearing intimate details about the status of a stranger’s cervix and the process she went through to have her own child. Sharing is fine; telling me how you almost died trying to give birth is not.


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