Pregnancy Goes On Forever and Ever and Ever and Ever…

So, I get it, you’re irritated with me. It’s been too damned long since I wrote here. And you’re right.


However, since having Evelyn, I have a great deal of rage and I want to address a few things while I still have some of you as my audience.

You see, I would get so angry during my pregnancy because I was told by every Mom in the world, “Honey, don’t be upset about _____. THIS is the easy part. Wait until they’re born…”. I wanted to just scream my face off, let it rip that being pregnant is no cat’s meow and I was OVER being knocked up. Where is this baby, already?

I mean, when you’re pregnant, a woman has issues. Physical AND mental. And topping off crazy and uncomfortable with stories of pain, sleeplessness, and the endless trials and tribulations that are coming down the pipeline directly to you, it can make being knocked up feel like hell.

My qualms, for example, were as follows:

  • THE WADDLE. People, it’s real, it’s awkward, and it’s especially irritating when your friends mimic the you either out of osmosis or commiseration as you lumber down the road. And the waddle comes from many a reason, all of which are not much fun:
    1. The ever expanding pelvic boom of doom. So, my long story short is that your bits down below stretch as you get closer to birthing a kiddo. And as they stretch, business gets uncomfortable. So much so, that a waddle allows you to walk without said discomfort. It’s something that everyone else gets to enjoy by you, and all you can do is wait until you’re no longer pregnant so you can get back your sleek, Giselle like prance.
  • PILES: Let’s not discuss this one in too much detail because if you know about them, then you already know what I mean, and if you don’t, God has blessed you with a kind of ignorance that should be treasured and kept forever. When I was asked by one of the nurses right after Easy E was born how the labor was overall, I told her that compared to my fight with hemorrhoids during my pregnancy, labor was a fucking cake walk.Cake.Walk.
  • Bleeding gums. Nothing says beauty like your mouth filled with blood every time you brush your teeth because everything on your body has a slight irritation and that’s just life.
  • Sleeping in two positions – the left side or the right side. You have always taken for granted how much you absolutely love sleeping on your back or on your stomach. Then one day, you can’t do either. You think, it’s not so bad sleeping on your sides, what’s the big deal? And then your hips start to ache, and you begin to HATE the fetal position, and suddenly you’re actually dreaming about SLEEPING on your back. This is a true story: the first tears I actually shed in the hospital weren’t over my beautiful new baby girl who laid next to me in the recovery room. Nope, those first tears were brought on by the basic and beautiful knowledge that for the first time, in a VERY long time, I was going to sleep on my back, and I was overjoyed. I still relish sleeping on my back every single time I lay down.
  • Smoking hot orthopedic shoes. Needless to say, I tried to do my best by this one, because I was always watching super hot pregnant woman, like Blake Lively, walk around in stilettos and didn’t want to completely lose my fashionista way. But apparently, my patent leather Dansko clogs weren’t the hot ticket that other MILFs were wearing. And I was mocked, often, and with relish over my need to wear BEASTLY footwear that gave me enough support for my waddle to bear.
  • You get home, it’s 6 o’clock, it’s bedtime. Towards the end, there’s even a nap time in your car sometime between 1-3 because you just need one.
  • All the time. All the time. I was lucky because I didn’t have the urge to go 10-20 times a day until the last 2-3 weeks, but I know some women suffer from this and god damn is it annoying. You have this desperate urge to go, waddle your wide tookis to the can, and pee for 5 seconds before you’re done. Talk about trying to not get depressed.
  • Morning sickness. Again, I only had it for the first trimester, but for those CHAMPION WOMEN who suffer for longer than that, I must hand it to them for being bad-asses because it’s the WORST. Trapped on a boat for forever. Lost at sea. And not in a movie version with Robert Redford or a tiger.

But I don’t want to bitch about pregnancy in this post. Nope nope nope.

My game is not to add to the BS about pregnancy and labor that already exists from countless other mothers, etc.

What I do want to talk about is how ill prepared I was for post pregnancy. It seemed to me that everything was about how to get through the carrying of pushing out of the child. BUT WHAT HAPPENS AFTER ALL OF THAT? Oh yeah…the shit that EVERY MOTHER TOLD ME WOULD COME.

My thoughts about labor towards the end of my pregnancy were like this: in terms of time commitment, it’s a drop in the hat next to RAISING A CHILD. So, I wasn’t too freaked out about the whole birthing of the kid process (see previous post).

But RAISING a kid is no fucking joke.

Not at all.

So it seems, everyone was right.

Things I feel were not told to me may (or may not) have helped me prep for what I am now experiencing, which is frustration, separation, exhaustion, confusion, irritation, wishfulness, fear, and insanity.

Let me first make clear this one point – having a kid means that for awhile (I don’t know exactly HOW long, I’m still working through month 5 here) they are your FULL TIME JOB (repeat: FULL TIME JOB). You must be available for this new life, to, you know, keep it alive at all costs. So, you may have a professional career, a marriage, and a home to keep. And those are careers in themselves. THEN ADD CHILDREN TO THE MIX AND SUDDENLY YOU ARE OVERWORKED AND UNDERPAID FOR…FOREVER!

Not that there aren’t major pluses to being a parent (smiles, giggles, cuddles, soft skin, coos), but we’re talking about work loads here, not joys of parenthood.

I mean, I imagined that the kid would need me all day – who else was it going to call when it wanted to be fed or changed? UPS? Nannies-R-Us?

But, as for what actually caring for a new life all day everyday actually means, you never are “off”. There is no more “back like it was”, or “we used to”s. There are no breaks (not really, at least). Even when the kid is sleeping,  you’re hearing all the noises that they make in HYPER ALERT FASHION because you’re a Mom? A parent? A saver of life?

Whatever it is, it’s a LOT.

It has been a bit scary (at least for me). Easy E is a pretty noisy kid all around (I may never be able to sleep next to my child and husband for that reason), but it’s all the little noises she makes when she’s sleeping that put the fear of god into my heart.

I pray, “Please don’t wake up, please stay asleep, please don’t cry, please be calm, please rest, please, please, please”.

They don’t tell you when you’re pregnant how hard it is to not only get a small baby to FALL asleep, but also how hard it is to KEEP a baby asleep. They just want to wake up. Like they think they’re missing something much cooler than their dreams.

I want to tell Evelyn, “look kid. I’m doing laundry, cleaning the kitchen, reorganizing our spice rack – condiment section – freezer food, checking emails, or catching up on The Mindy Project. THERE IS NOTHING FUN HAPPENING RIGHT NOW!!!”. My life is literally trying to fill in the time in between her awake periods (90 minute awake cycles – I’ll get to that) and her restless sleep periods.

They also don’t tell you that you will probably need a post pregnancy wardrobe just as much as you’ll need a pregnancy one. Maternity bras and tank tops, breast pads, fat girl jeans, hair ties (or a hair cut that will make you not look like the Whiskey Tango trash you feel  you look like), button down shirts, special nursing tops, nothing with zippers on the chest….etc, etc. After a couple of weeks topless in sweatpants, one may feel that they’d like to wear something that they could go outside in (not that topless and sweats are off the table, but a little classier number may be the trick). Wearing your husband’s clothes just makes you feel large, which we DON’T WANT TO FEEL ANYMORE BECAUSE WE WERE JUST 10 MONTHS PREGNANT!!!

They don’t tell you about adult diaper rash you may have from the side affects of a natural delivery.

They forgot to mention how important correctly fitting nipple covers will be for your free ObamaCare issued breast pump for the health and shape of your now overly used nips. (Don’t be upset if your once little pink buds become something else, altogether. I hear they may go back…one day…some day….)

How many blankets and burp cloths are necessary for daily successes.

The sheer number of diapers and wipes you will go through and where one can buy the best, cheapest version in BULK of what you’ll use.

How many loads of laundry and dishes you’ll do a week.

The insatiable thirst you’ll have when breastfeeding. Invest in a few 24oz. bottles, you’ll thank me for it later.


How much more you’ll sweat in the first weeks. I think this ties into your horemones, which I feel does get a lot of talk, but in no way will you get what they mean until your own ‘mones are RAGING and you don’t know why you feel so lonely/overwhelmed/anxious/happy/frustrated/lost/fat/weird/rage/sadness/empty…

And then there’s the sleep schedule. KEEP TO IT. I don’t care what has or has not worked for OTHER people. For MY BABY, we did the N.A.P.S. program and put that kid, come hell or high water, down to sleep every 90 minutes after she last woke up. And even though this may not have actually worked in the beginning, I had to hold onto it, because it was all I had that felt like sanity.

Because your life suddenly becomes about sleep.Sleep=sanity.

Sleep. I miss sleep. Sleep should NEVER be taken for granted again.

I find to be a good mom and mediocre wife, sleep can make that happen, FOR REAL. Otherwise, accept the zombie that I am and MOVE ON.

Needless to say, there is and SHOULD BE a list of stuff before, during, and AFTER a pregnancy so that one can be as prepared as possible for all the things, ALL THE THINGS. But I actually didn’t want to write a scary post here…so, I may stop now.

Enjoy some Eku pictures being the benevolent dictator that she is.



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s