Also, since it's twins (Did I mention that?), this means, according to WebMD, that I'm going to be twice as pregnant for twice as long.
Nobody tells you the truth about pregnancy. We think we understand it because of movies, but movies are goddamn liars. How many times have you seen something play out as follows: Pregnancy test freakout, pickle eating and crying at movies, baby outside of her bits already? IT'S BECAUSE WHAT HAPPENS IN BETWEEN IS HORRIBLE AND YOU'RE NOT PREPARED FOR IT. Maybe nobody will want to procreate after this post, but I am a teller of truths, and it will be honest.
I am not glowing.
I am not "in touch with the full form of the Goddess"
And fuck anyone who tries to tell me that shit.
Most days, I just want to be able to stand up normally, or go all night without needing to piss 6 times, or have my tits feel like they were using as a punching bag. But I'd settle for getting treated like a person. So, here follows some things I've learned.
1. Fuck this gross shit.
My body is not a romantic comedy about a couple hilariously bumbling their way through an impending birth. It's a post-apocalyptic disaster film directed by Michael Bay. It's a bad film, flashy and loud, and you feel bad about yourself at the end for having watched it. Every day I find myself horrified by some new and disgusting thing. It's bad. All of it is bad.
2. People are mean as hell.
When I found out I was having twins one of the first things said to me was "YOU'RE GOING TO GET SO BIG" and this was repeated to me ad nauseam. I've been told nightmare stories about twins being born so tiny that they stayed in a NICU for months... about twins born so gigantic that they had to cut the mother open without anesthesia to save her poor vagina from utter destruction... about twins dying late term...
Gender neutral you say? FUCK YOU.
What do you mean you aren't telling people the genders? HOW COULD YOU DO THAT TO YOUR FAMILY YOU SELFISH BITCH.
Just shut the fuck up people. I get it. It's awful. I'm awful. I'll be fat.
Clearly, no matter what, I am being pregnant wrong, and people want me to know this.
Be prepared people: In the coming weeks I'm looking for a fight. I'm going to start going to bars
and ordering cocktails just so when a person looks indignant at me I can punch them in their self righteous faces.
3. I am also mean as hell.
The aforementioned punching? I would've done it anyway likely, but you know, being pregnant has made me mean and self-defensive. I want to hit everyone who's had something crappy to say - and as time wears on, I become increasingly likely to do it.
4. If you complain about a thing - you're the worst mother ever and your babies might die.
I recently told a doctor that due to some PTSD related issues that if I required a C-Section or OR delivery that I might need to be sedated or at least medicated to prevent an utter freakout. She then politely explained that I was only one of the three patients she'd have in the room that day (oh good, the 100 day old fetus' get a say...) and that I should focus on what's best for them. DO YOU KNOW HOW BAD IT WILL BE IF YOU DON'T TOUCH THEM IMMEDIATELY? THEY WILL BECOME HITLERS.
Say you feel fat? Nope.
Say you feel weird about being pregnant? HOW COULD YOU SAY THAT.
5. They are going to be out of me at some point, and then the real shit starts.
So, I already have a child. She's 15. I've done this.
All this pregnancy shit (In movies, or real life) seems to have an expiration date of "birth" but I happen to know that the little fuckers haunting my ribcage right now will one day exist on a physical plane that I have to interact with, and that will be awful. I didn't sign up for two - and nobody seems to acknowledge that this is a thing that will happen one day.
The fuck am I going to do... we live in 800 square feet.
I've grown bored of lists but, my body is a terrible awful thing right now that lives to betray me. It's all just so goddamn unnatural (FUCK YOU FOR ANYTHING THAT JUST POPPED INTO YOUR HEAD) it feels like you spend months with your body rejecting an increasingly huge parasite. We count the damn size every week (awww... they're the size of peaches now!) but seriously, if that bitch was a tapeworm, would you really want to know how big it was getting while stealing your nutrients and possibly killing you? I started this journey with four solid months of vomiting - in any other situation in your goddamn life - this would be a stay in a hospital, but nooooooo, joys of pregnancy and all. Endure. It's like any other symptom - you smile and endure because at some point you dared interact with someones penis.
Also, fuck you if you get sick or literally anything else. Medication, OTC or otherwise, is just fucking out. Why? Not because they know it will hurt you or your baby/s, but that they haven't bothered to check and therefore you must suffer the flu without NyQuil because if you don't - you're a terrible parent. My body has just utterly forgotten how to defecate by the way, and on top of that, I have no idea what is happening with my tits.
I've grown two sizes like some deranged Grinch-themed porno, and my nipples are like chapstick tubes. And that's not the half of it, but I leave my other tit related horrors to myself, my spouse, and the Gods who have clearly forsaken me. For the love of all that is holy, people, if in the future you're interacting sexually with a pregnant woman - unless she invites, just leave her poor tits alone. They've been through enough already.
I'm so fucking sick of the of "do nots" - I just want to drink a latte, and have preserved meats, and soft cheese as some sort of protest. But maybe in the privacy of my home, where nobody can judge me.
The guilt is just fucking constant.
Let me make clear a thing I haven't said: I hate being pregnant. I spent a lot of my life coming to terms with the fact that I was sterile and wasn't expecting this to be a thing I was doing. I feel guilty as shit for saying that because miscarriages, pain, sadness, and the want to make genetic offspring for Vandal and I is totally a real thing - but I hate it. I hate what it does to me, and I hate myself for thinking it. As though not mentally enjoying pregnancy will somehow render me un-pregnant for thinking the words that un-make the world.
Other than all this, I guess I'm good.
I'm lucky to have a healthy and reasonably mentally stable 15 year old. I have a happy marriage. I am having a mostly healthy pregnancy and have every faith that these babies will be born without problems and go on to become the neurotic weirdos that I hope they will be one day. I'm not going to sit here and say to you that having a baby will be the most important thing you'll ever do, because that would be a goddamn lie and I'm not about that - but it is pretty special.
It's worth it.
But seriously? The next 180 days can just go ahead and fuck right off.