Tuesday, November 22

A 30 week pity party...



You guys.

I'll be honest with you, I've felt like doing nothing else but holing myself up in our house for the last two months. Can I be honest for a minute? All those cute little women/bloggers/whatever who post tons of photos of themselves all kinds of pregnant and they look adorable with normal sized necks and their thighs still look like normal people thighs... I'm not them.

I don't want anyone to take any photos of me. If I catch you with any sort of electronic that even resembles a camera pointed at me so help me God I will destroy it. And if you do, somehow sneak a photo in you're better off just NEVER letting me know about it or see it. In fact, if you could just cover up every mirror in our house, that would be great, thanksomuch. Without having too much more of an online pity party I will just tell you that I  loathe my pregnant body because I feel trapped in something that is much larger than I find acceptable for day to day use and pretty much CONSTANTLY uncomfortable no matter what.

I'm just not one of those cute pregnant women. Sexy? HA! Me and my numerous chins are sorry to disappoint. And do I feel guilty for not taking weekly photos of my blossoming self? A bit. But I'm having a boy, and boys generally care less about things like that later on in life than girls so I figure I'm off the hook. And looking at recently taken photos of myself makes me instantly want to cry for hours so for the sake of productivity and my mental health those photos have gone out the window.

So there. I said it all. No one (that I can find) ever says it because if and when you are pregnant you are supposed to spew rainbows and baby butterflies from your eyes and ears and just LOVE everything about it and about how your body changes and about how magical the whole thing is. And God forbid you actually want to be thin again you can't say it because there are so many women out there who want to be pregnant who would be so much more thankful than you. GUILT.

Anyways... I am very happy that at 30 weeks I have had a fantastically boring pregnancy. Nothing has gone wrong. I'm right smack in the middle of the healthy ranges for everything (except iron, so I'm sipping on a strange tasting herbal iron medicine every day) and our little boy is already head down hanging out in a great position with a perfectly paced heartbeat. So don't get me wrong, I'm thrilled that I'm doing a kick ass job of growing a human. I'm just not so thrilled with the side affects. Namely how my legs, arms, neck, calves, and cheeks all look pregnant instead of just my belly. Surprise!

So at 30 weeks I'm pretty much ready to be done. I'm over it. Let's get this show on the road, let's get back into normal sized clothes with a normal sized neck and normalized emotions about it all. 

Here's the closest thing to a photo of me at 30 weeks anyone is going to get. 

Ps. Rainbows and baby butterflies. 
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