How to Get Killed by a Pregnant Lady

HEY! Read this first.

Now that I am pregnant again, I feel free to say that expectant mothers are some of the most difficult people on the planet. I was the first time around and I am starting to see the signs again. There are a few happy-sparkle-rainbow moms that don’t fit into this category (though, I’ve only met one or two), but usually we are pretty hard to please. It’s not ALL our fault though!

Let me explain…

You’ve heard over and over how you are NEVER, under any circumstances, supposed to comment on a pregnant woman’s size/weight/shape. Even though the commenter may be well-meaning, pregnant ladies are hardly ever okay with what is said.

Example 1:

Well-meaning person: Wow, you’re really showing!

Pregnant lady: Bitch just called me fat.

(Pregnant women think in cuss words, whether they say it or not. Didn’t you know? We’re pretty hostile.)

Example 2:

Well-meaning person: You’re carrying reaaaally wide! Must be a girl!

Pregnant lady: And you must be carrying three.

(Way harsh, Tai.)

Example 3:

Well-meaning person: You’re glowing!

Pregnant lady: RUDE! She just pointed out how sweaty I am!

Example 4:

Well-meaning person: YOU’RE DRINKING COFFEE/HAVING A HOME BIRTH/EATING SUGAR/WEARING HIGH HEELS!? DON’T YOU KNOW YOU’RE KILLING YOUR BABY!?! LET ME PUSH ALL MY BELIEFS ON YOU EVEN THOUGH I’VE NEVER HAD A KID OF MY OWN & SCARE THE CRAP OUT OF YOU IN THE PROCESS!

Pregnant lady: (We usually just cry at this point.)

My point is, we’re really touchy. To the people who mean no harm and are only trying to say how cute we look, I’m really sorry. These hormonies make us sort of out of control, but we really can’t help it.

To be safe, you can always just tell us we look pretty. Ladies always want to look pretty, whether we have a bowling ball belly or not. If you stray from my advice, I am not responsible for what happens to you at the hand of that pregnant person.

You’re in that girl’s territory now.

Baby #2 – Seven Weeks

I apologize for the lack of posting lately. It seems as though blueberry sized babies have the freakish ability to suck every last ounce of energy from your bloated little body, leaving you on the brink of falling asleep at any given moment. And don’t even test me right now because I already took 3 naps while writing this paragraph.

New this week: I HATE CHICKEN! AND CHEESE! AND SALSA! AND EVERYTHING I LOVED 3 DAYS AGO.

And I am bloated. Like, really bloated. See this picture?

99% gas, 1% baby. It’s gross, really. I could totally double as a life raft with all the air that I have in there.

I would also like to take a moment to salute the women who are able to keep their pregnancy under wraps until the 12th week because HOLY CRAP, complaining about my symptoms to everyone who makes eye contact is the only thing getting me through right now. You women are my heroes.

Baby #2 – Five Weeks

First of all, I want to send out a huge thank you to everyone for all the congratulations and incredibly sweet comments we received! What a blessing that was! I am definitely pregnant… 5 and a half weeks to be exact. It’s super early and I know a lot of women don’t share the special news until they’re past the ‘safe’ point of 12 weeks, but let’s be real here. You all know very well I am physically unable to keep a secret. I basically waited until we told our parents and close friends before running home and taking that video of Madeline. It was about 5 hours after I took the pregnancy test. Serious.

I WAS EXCITED, ALRIGHT? :)

Anyway, to say I’m a little bit nervous about the whole two kids thing is the understatement of my life, I’m not going to lie. Maddie is hyper and insane. The thought of chasing her around for the next 9 months with a huge belly is only slightly unnerving, but there is a light at the end of the tunnel, and that happens to be a cuddly, sweet-smelling little nugget of a baby. A BABY. I can say with 100% certainty that I will love and adore this one just as much as Madeline and I absolutely can’t wait for him or her to arrive. It’s going to be a long 35 weeks.

On another note, do you want to know what I’m most excited to experience? The glorious return of The Shelf.

BEHOLD:

Mommy doesn’t want an “ass like a donkey”, Pitbull. But thanks anyway.

Phantom Baby Kicks

Earlier today I was sitting at a stop light, listening to the radio and fixing my lip gloss. All of a sudden I felt something straight up MOVE in my belly. For a few seconds I panicked, trying to remember if I took my birth control, when my last period was, etc.  I knew there was no possible way I could be pregnant. You have to be, what? 4 months along to feel your baby kick?

But WHAT THE HECK was that?

Every so often I get that same feeling that makes me stop dead in my tracks and have a mini freak out session. I’ve had this discussion with some of my mom friends and they all seem to have experienced the Phantom Baby Kicks.

We know it’s just gas… but seriously? We ALL have gas that is so powerful it feels like a baby is kicking? Come on. Something else has to be going on here.

If not, that’s just plain gross/slightly badass.

Last week I thought I was pregnant.

I’ve had two legitimate pregnancy scares since I’ve had Madeline. The first was at my 6 week postpartum appointment. The nurse measured my height, took my weight and asked some pretty general questions.

Nurse: So, how are things going Mom?

Me: Great!

Nurse: Are you breastfeeding?

Me: Yes.

Nurse: Have you had sexual intercourse since giving birth?

Me: ……………………………yesssss.

Nurse: Okay, let’s get a urine sample.

Me: Okay– wait, WHAT? O_O

Off she skipped, leaving me to my thoughts and that dreaded little plastic cup.  After waiting forty-five minutes for my results to come back, I had pretty much worked myself up into a tizzy. By the time she came back in, I had mentally come full circle: OMG, she just took a urine sample. That means I could be pregnant, again! GOD, HELP ME. Madeline is 6 weeks old, so that means I’ll have two kids under a year old at the same time. WHAT. AM. I. DOING? I’ll have to quit work, get a double stroller, move into a bigger place and I’ll eventually need a boob job, no doubt. Well, that part’s not so bad. And actually, new babies are cuddly, sweet and smell flipping good. Awww, I wonder if it’ll be a boy this time. No, I don’t think I can handle a wiener. I think I want another girl – a little sister for Maddie. Ahhh, they are going to have so much fun shopping together when they’re older! Maddie and… gosh, I need another name. Another ‘M’ name, or is that too cheesy? Maybe a ‘J’, after Justin this time. Wait, what the heck am I thinking?! I CAN’T BE PREGNANT AGAIN… I will DIE.

Needless to say I wasn’t pregnant back in January, but last Thursday I went through a similar thought process when I realized I was a full week late. This time, I shared my possible exciting news with Stephanie, who proceeded to spend the rest of the afternoon showing me pictures of her adorable new brother and sister. Torture! By 5:00, I was actually looking forward to going home and taking a pregnancy test. I had 2 sets of first & middle names and a few options for nursery decor picked out. Pro.

Well, I’m definitely not pregnant. Ah, the wonders of nature. At least now I know if it does happen by accident, I’m not going to die. I might even be happy about it. :)