Pregnancy. This is something women dream about all their lives. I fantasized about being pregnant and having my husband tend to my every need. In my fantasies I was beautifully pregnant and peaceful. I imagined the whole process to be the most incredible experience of my life. One that I would look back on fondly as the years passed. I imagined I would love it and want to do it over and over again, making cute little babies that I would fall in love with instantly. Well, that is not exactly how it played out for me. I fucking hated being pregnant. Check it out.
I got married in June and found out I was pregnant in July. That right there pissed me off. I have a few medical conditions that were supposed to pose a problem or two with conception (I was by no means hoping for difficulty but I sure as hell didn’t think I was going to be fertile Mertyle.) We figured we would start trying right away but I for sure thought it would take a while to conceive. My doctors even feared I wouldn’t be able to conceive naturally and if I did I probably wouldn’t be able to maintain the pregnancy past 4 months without bedrest. So, I thought what the hell, let’s have some fun with this trying stuff. I was hoping to go on a honeymoon and enjoy married life for a hot minute while in the process of practicing. Nope. First time… pregnant. The minute that zygote was present I fell ill with narcolepsy. I felt like I was tranquilized. Drugged. There was no fighting this fatigue, I just had to roll with it. I was falling asleep at dinner tables. And believe me, I was sitting at a ton of dinner tables because my appetite was so enormous I could have sworn I was pregnant with quads. I felt these intense symptoms like 37 seconds into my pregnancy. Now, maybe I was under weight when I got pregnant, which in my opinion was awesome because I LOVED being really skinny, but I literally had to start wearing maternity clothes 8 weeks in. I was elastic banding it before I heard the thing’s heart beat. That was some major BS. Now lets talk about my cravings. I had one craving the minute my womb became occupied and it was as intense as a heroin addiction. I was a chocolate chip pancake junky. I would NEVER have eaten chocolate chip pancakes in my right mind. Not even once in a while for a sweet treat let alone EVERYDAY ALL DAY FOR MONTHS. This was the drill. I would wake up in the morning and make a tall ass stack of homemade buttermilk chocolate chip pancakes. I would say my stack was about 10 deep. I would put the stack in the microwave and all throughout the day I would bust that thing open and grab a flapjack to nibble on. I would eat a stack a day. I don’t know why I was so shocked when I went to my first appointment and had gained 13 pounds but I was (and pissed off at my zygote). How could she do this to me? Oh, I was having a girl, btw. I had dreams about her. She was really pretty and snuggly. I loved her. I spent my first trimester eating and crying. It was really fun. My 20 week appointment rolled around and we were able to find out the sex of our baby. That day I got 2 pieces of shocking news. I had gained 42 pounds just 5 months into my pregnancy and my daughter was actually my son. I cried when they told me this. Not about the weight, about the boy. What was I going to do with a boy? I didn’t want a boy, I wanted a girl because she was visiting me in my dreams and we had a connection. I eventually got over this and grew excited for my sweet boy. I was’t excited about some other shit that was happening to me, though, like my breasts for example. They were enormous. And not enormous and pretty, they were veiny and gross. And excuse me, but why were my areolas dark as night? Not just dark as night but growing at a rapid pace? I googled pregnancy boobs and holy crap! Some mothers to be have black ass hubcap areola’s. WTF! I was thanking my lucky stars for what I was dealing with after seeing those things. It was around that time I could no longer sit indian style, too, because I was so fat my legs wouldn’t fold. I had to sit like a GD rag doll. Legs spread apart. Sticking straight out. Huge ass belly resting on my thighs. I looked like I was full term by the time I hit my third trimester. Sexy. I soon thereafter developed sciatica. That nonsense was FOR THE BIRDS. Shooting pains down my ass and legs every time I moved. HELL ON EARTH. When I asked the doctors how long it would be before it subsided they told me when I gave birth. I wanted to karate chop the shit out of them right then and there. I went into preterm labor at 30 weeks which was expected. My doctor ordered me to be on modified bed rest. Great news! I was about to get fatter! It was at about this time my doctors decided I was going to have a planned c-section which I was actually thrilled about because I did not want to have a vaginal birth. No way. No how. I have seen that garbage on youtube and I was not looking forward to doing that to my vagina. That was the best news I received all pregnancy by far. I know some mom’s blow their lids and cry for 30 hours in horrific labor trying to avoid a c-section. They want to push that thing out no matter what it takes. Me? I wanted a civilized birth where there was no risk of tearing my vajay open to my anus or shitting on a table in front of anyone. Call me crazy but I wanted to be cut open. So at that point I was whistling dixie because I was able to save my vagina but then I just turned into a goddamn monster. I couldn’t walk anymore bc every time I did I would go into labor. Now I was on complete bed rest. I was farting like a truck driver… uncontrollably. That wasn’t gross at all. I couldn’t roll over to get out of bed because I was enormous and my sciatica was at an all-time high. My bush? WAS HUGE! I couldn’t see it but I sure could feel it. Thank God I was getting a c-section. I didn’t have to trim that thing for the doctors visual enjoyment. My breasts starting leaking stuff. That was jacked up and totally unexpected. My son had dropped so low at this point I could feel him tickling my butt hole with his little fingers and every now and again he would make a sudden move and I just went ahead and emptied my bladder without control. I stopped sleeping through the night because I was so uncomfortable I wanted to die. Begging for death, actually. Oh, and btw soon to be moms…. if you are able to get a 3D ultrasound of your sweet little fetus, just say no, ok? That shit is frightening! My son looked like he had no eyeballs and he was really ugly. I was not excited after seeing those images. I was terrified. My pancake addiction had subsided probably because I was unable to stand and cook anymore but a new craving took over. Swedish fish. I was buying 5 pound bags of them and eating them every time I was near the bag which was CONSTANTLY because the bag was always with me. How was I shopping for them when I was on bedrest? My mom would pick me up and drive me to the store. I would ride around the store on a motorized cart. Humiliating but at least I was able to get out of my house. Finally the day came where I went into labor and they just said fuck it. Let’s get this beasts kid out of her because she is driving us frigging nuts. This is when I realized it did matter whether I trimmed my huge bush or not for a c-section. Read this for the whole story but here is a little tidbit for ya. The nurse had to shave my gigantic bush with clippers before they wheeled me into to OR. Yep. It took like an hour. That was fun. Long story short, my son was born healthy and really frigging ugly (apparently it wasn’t the 3D ultrasounds fault it was just him but he did have eyeballs which was cool) at 6 pounds 5 ounces. I was in love! I swear I thought he was going to be at least 15 pounds considering I had gained 80. I also swore I wasn’t going to breast feed. But the moment I heard my sweet little boy cry like an angel I put him right on my big ass black nipples and fed him his mother’s milk. That was beautiful, actually. Until he latched on wrong. Then it sucked more than anything I had ever experienced. Shooting pains shot straight through my nipples. Do you know how many nerve endings there are in your nipples? You’ll find out when a kid latches on wrong/when your nipples start cracking. I felt like I was being struck by lighting in my nips yet I continued to breast feed my son for months. The day after his birth I woke up and my milk had come in. How did I know? Well, the fact that my boobs were 17 pounds each was a pretty good indication. I had porn star boobs. That was kind of hot. I was able to get up and move about and shower by then. I was not prepared for what I saw next. No one could have prepared me for this. I undressed and looked in the mirror. The horror staring back at me was something I will never forget. Did you know that after giving birth YOU STILL LOOK 9 MONTHS PREGNANT? I certainly did not and boy was I pissed off when I found that out. I went through all that to still look pregnant after he was out? I was burning fucking mad. Let’s talk about under garments the hospital has you wear. Mesh underpants that go up to your milkers with a maxi pad the size of a fucking canoe? And why did I need a pad? I had a c -section. Ain’t nothing supposed to be coming out of my vajay. Little did I know every now and again the nurses would come into my room and massage my uterus. You heard me. I know what you are thinking… Massages feel good, no? NO! Not these! Those broads were strong as hell and used a little elbow grease with this massage. They frigging pushed down onto my uterus AND PUSHED DOWN HARD. The pain was at a 9’er. And the stuff that came out of my beautiful little vagina? No one told me about this. No one and I’m sorry but I am pissed about that. I should have been told. So, up yours to all of my friends and family who had babies before me and neglected to tell me this. All of this.
So. That is my beautiful story about my pregnancy with my first born. Did it seem negative to you? Well, it’s not. It’s reality. The cool thing about pregnancy, though, is you forget how much it sucked and you usually end up having more. I did at least. Here’s a great little update for all of you who’s uterus and vagina have shut down and gone into organ failure since reading my story… Everything is back to normal and I have two beautiful babies who I would get pregnant over and over again for. I know how lucky I am to have been able to carry them and give birth to them. I would take black ass areolas any day if it meant I would have my babies too.
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