Not that I'm not going to enjoy being a mother, but there are just some things I miss. And it's little things. Please understand that this is a rant. You have that option of just skimming over, thanks.
1. Being regular. Three cups of prune juice and nothing. Just taken my stool softeners and praying that I don't pop a vein or worse, pull out my back. I eat my fiber. I stay away from white bread. I drink TONS of water. (Have to or I get a UTI...narrow urethra.) I'm tired of feeling like I have a little gremlin lighting a match to my a**hole. It's getting a tad annoying.
2. Seeing my feet. It'd be nice to appreciate a pedicure. Can't, though. What's the point of getting one if I can't see it?
3. My back being pain free. I think if I had a day of 0 back pain, I'd sh*t a brick...which would bring me back to rant #1.
4. Being able to shave without feeling like my bottom half is going to fire off like a potato grenade launcher. It's a project to shave my legs, being that I'm long legged. And now that I'm getting closer to my due date, I have to worry about my kid getting rug burn because of the length of my leg hair. So it's either shave in a Sumo Wreslter's pose or sound like a cricket when I walk. I haven't quite decided which is worse, yet.
5. And can I just tell you now NOT sexy I feel with all this going on? I look like I swallowed a two ton whale, I waddle when I walk, and I curse that skinny white boy eating hundreds of White Castle burgers on the commercial because you know and I know that the moment my lips touches one, 7lbs of fat is sucked onto the bandwagon of jiggly thigh stores that I'm going to have to work off later after the baby is born. And WHY does cheesecake look so appetiziing??? I curse Hershey's, Dairy Queen, and Mrs. Smiths. Thank you for being the bane of my thong existence.
6. Being able to sleep without worrying about a hip cramp, leg cramp, toe cramp, when I roll over. It sucks having to roll over in sections. I get scared when I sit on my couch. I'm afraid I"m going to get sucked in the black hole of nickles and left socks. And once my fat a** gets stuck, I might as well deliver there.
7. I miss coffee. Any coffee at this point. It could be water baptized with dry roasted Sanka grounds for all I care. At first, I missed good coffee, but at this point, I'll take any day old mud strained through a sweat sock sold to me as gourmet Java. I enjoy going to work in the morning just so I can smell coffee brewing. Dunkin Donuts used to own my soul. They've sent letters asking me if I'm ok and that they miss me. I miss you too, Dunkin Donuts. Rest assure.
So when my son asks me, later on in life, why I have pictures of him in cute little cow pajamas that say "Want Milk" or why I dressed him up in reindeer outfits for Christmas, I will scroll back to this entry and let him see exactly what sacrifices I had to put myself through in order to bring him into this world.
Today...today I miss my body. Thanks for letting me rant.