I have heard the rumors and the myths. I have seen the serene women of movie all pregnant and beautiful. I have decided its all a bunch of crap. The only reason pregnant women "glow" is because every ounce of oil that was ever in their bodies has congregated onto their face to create the perfect storm - a zit zone to rival that of a pubescent boy with a face washing aversion. I look like the proverbial pepproni pizza (hmm, pizza...how long until I can reasonably eat my next meal?).
If that wasn't bad enough I have also discovered that I have crossed over the line from "mildly annoyed most of the time" to "I am a raving lunatic that will likely kill you if you close the cabinet door wrong." When did this happen and why would this cruel joke begin to unfold so early on? I mean first of all, I can't enjoy any of my past favorite activities, the least of which was a glass of wine at the end of a long day, but now I also can't quit screaming/crying/threatening to cause others serious bodily injury. I just want to be one of those people on the movies who's entire pregnancy lasts like thirty minutes, they are always sooo excited to be pregnant and sooooo beautiful while they are pregnant, and sooooooooo happy to order yet another ice water and even drive everyone home at the end of the night. Who is this woman, and where is she, because I would like to throw a punch at her pretty, zit free face.
Because of my new cynical nature and the fear that Peanut might get the feeling he/she is an inconvenience to me (which he is but I mean its not really his fault) I will force myself to end on a happy note. *Extended pause while I grapple for something*
Got it. I slept for 13 hours last night. And didn't feel the least bit guilty about it. Thanks fetus for giving me the excuse to wallow in bed for hours on end without once ever thinking I should get up and make contact with the outside world.
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