Nesting picture

As you may know from my last post, I spent 29 hours in labour with my son…and let me tell you it was worse than they said it would be!

The night before I went into labour I nested. I really don’t know why they call it that, because for me I just became a crazy mad woman who needed to scrub the entire world clean. Nesting is so deceptive of a word for what actually happens, which I found is the case with almost everything pertaining to pregnancy and parenting. I mean when I think of nesting, I think of folding cute little onesies, unpacking the mountain of diapers you bought, and placing all the lotions and potions you will soon figure out you don’t need in their rightful place. It sounds like you would be arranging the stuffed animals and toys they will just spit up on and checking and re-checking the baby monitor to make sure it works.

It is NOTHING like that (at least it wasn’t for me).

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STILL pregnant! He won’t get OUT!

photoI have come to the conclusion that I am going to be pregnant and miserable for the rest of my life. All signs pointed to my son coming into this world early, but then I remembered who his father was and realized that I am completely screwed and now going to be out numbered. This kid is going to have to be forced out. June 5th, exactly 10 days after my last due date they are going to induce me (which is VERY painful from what I have been told as Pitocin is not fun) and he will wait until after midnight on June 6th to enter this world. Because he is JUST LIKE HIS FATHER!

My husband does EVERYTHING in his own time, and if he is comfortable, FORGET about suggesting change. Most times it has to be forced on him or it has to hit him on the head that it is for the best before he will concede.

For example, how I believe he decided to marry me finally after 10 years is that he realized that I was fed up and had given up. Not with the relationship, but with the idea of ever being married.

We were at a wedding for a very good family friend and a lot of my family and friends of my parents were there who had known me all my life. As usual everyone was asking the dreaded question: “When are you two getting married?” and after 10 years of trying to come up with witty excuses to not feel like a complete idiot for giving away the milk for free and now being stuck in a limbo where he won’t shit but he also won’t get off the pot, I finally said exactly what I thought and felt was MY truth at the time…NEVER!

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The “joys” of being pregnant

2013-01-17 14.10.25Before I hop right into my topic – a topic there was no room for in my last post; I have to put it out there that, NO, I am not going to become one of those women who obsessively talks about their kids or my pregnancy. Because I am more than a walking, talking, weeble wobble of an incubator, and after the baby is born I will continue to be more than just a Mom. And if I do become one of those women…PLEASE CALL ME ON IT! I will thank you for it!

Oh where to begin with this? Maybe I should start by giving an obscene gesture to all those women I know who have had kids but kept all this from me! A little heads up would have been nice ladies, ya know, before there was no going back. Was I THAT closed off to you during your pregnancies that I just didn’t hear it or is there a secret society that forgot to send me my membership card and get me to pledge an oath of silence? Because there was SOOO much about this whole experience that would have been nice to know beforehand.

I am fully aware that not every pregnancy is the same. I was somewhat aware of that fact before since I had a few friends who got knocked up and they all “handled it” differently.

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