Just Call Me Cranky of the Morning Crankies
So I finally hit it. I hit the pregnancy wall. I officially don't want to be pregnant anymore. 38.5 weeks and here I am, officially WAITING FOR THE END.
Walking around New York City sends me into a BUMMER MOOD. I can't KEEP UP with the pace of this city at all, and crossing streets feels like a TEST OF FAITH every single time. I've been almost hit so many times by taxi cabs, impatient vans, in a hurry SUVS, and blindly turning cars. While walking down some stairs to the subway, I got knocked by a guy racing for the train and normally it would be annoying, but for someone's whose equalibrium is totally OFF on a set of stairs, it's annoying AND SCARY. I've fallen TWICE in the last two weeks. It doesn't help that I have double jointed ankles AND all my joints are LOOSENING in the GETTING READY for something large to MOVE THROUGH ME.
Also, I know I live in one of the most un-kid friendly areas ever, but an expectant gal can get kind of upset by the angry hater comments left on such interesting articles about the mommy haters of New York and beyond. Now when I stand on a subway train, having been pushed out of the way by a 21 year old hipster to get a seat, I keep thinking about the commenter who said "I am sick and tired of young mothers' sense of entitlement. It was your choice to get pregnant. Deal with it. You do not get a pat on the back or a seat from me because you decided to reproduce." Okay, but my feet are swollen and I am having serious spasms in my uh, UTERUS thanks to Braxton Hicks. Did you really NEED that SEAT THAT BADLY to push past a cumbersome pregnant lady of 8 months?
Also my two due date buddies have had their babies and I am looking at these little curled up dreamy beauties with such a sense of LONGING. Where is MINE already? I want to know what he looks like!
Then there's just the language people use around me. Now that I am in that OFFICIAL PERIOD OF ANY DAY NOW people around me are turning into what I call THE LAST TIMERS. "This is the LAST TIME it will be just you and me hanging out" or "this is the LAST TIME I'll see you like this" or "this is the LAST TIME I'll see you as I know you." The latter phrase kind of makes me mad. I get it, a BIG LIFE CHANGE is happening (man do I get it), but I am NOT DYING. I am not even going on one of those Extreme Makeover Reality Shows, where you won't be able to recognize me because I've had my teeth capped, a nose job, and a corporate sponsored shopping spree. I am just having a baby. I have enough worry about my identity being flushed down the toilet just by my own change in focus, but it doesn't help that my friends and family also think I am somehow going... going... GONE.
I have mentioned the mood swings right?
My step dad said on the phone this weekend, "All the women I've ever known at this stage are JUST CRANKY." Yes, and now you can officially add me to that list. I am already a pretty world class complainer. I won the gold medal in rings and vault jumping in the complaining olympics A LONG TIME AGO. It won't be the last time I am cranky or complain. I don't hear anyone saying, "Well, this is the LAST TIME I will see you cranky and complaining." You see? Pregnancy may come and go, but some things are FOREVER.
[UPDATE: So, since writing this very very CRANKY post I have learned that a friend's pregnant wife who is two weeks behind me is having so much BACK TROUBLE she can't even WALK. This has made me decide to SHUT IT. Because cumbersome and uncomfortable are not the same as not being able to walk. I am doing GREAT. Michelle, if you're reading this: MY Bellaband off to you! Hang in there, gal!]
Walking around New York City sends me into a BUMMER MOOD. I can't KEEP UP with the pace of this city at all, and crossing streets feels like a TEST OF FAITH every single time. I've been almost hit so many times by taxi cabs, impatient vans, in a hurry SUVS, and blindly turning cars. While walking down some stairs to the subway, I got knocked by a guy racing for the train and normally it would be annoying, but for someone's whose equalibrium is totally OFF on a set of stairs, it's annoying AND SCARY. I've fallen TWICE in the last two weeks. It doesn't help that I have double jointed ankles AND all my joints are LOOSENING in the GETTING READY for something large to MOVE THROUGH ME.
Also, I know I live in one of the most un-kid friendly areas ever, but an expectant gal can get kind of upset by the angry hater comments left on such interesting articles about the mommy haters of New York and beyond. Now when I stand on a subway train, having been pushed out of the way by a 21 year old hipster to get a seat, I keep thinking about the commenter who said "I am sick and tired of young mothers' sense of entitlement. It was your choice to get pregnant. Deal with it. You do not get a pat on the back or a seat from me because you decided to reproduce." Okay, but my feet are swollen and I am having serious spasms in my uh, UTERUS thanks to Braxton Hicks. Did you really NEED that SEAT THAT BADLY to push past a cumbersome pregnant lady of 8 months?
Also my two due date buddies have had their babies and I am looking at these little curled up dreamy beauties with such a sense of LONGING. Where is MINE already? I want to know what he looks like!
Then there's just the language people use around me. Now that I am in that OFFICIAL PERIOD OF ANY DAY NOW people around me are turning into what I call THE LAST TIMERS. "This is the LAST TIME it will be just you and me hanging out" or "this is the LAST TIME I'll see you like this" or "this is the LAST TIME I'll see you as I know you." The latter phrase kind of makes me mad. I get it, a BIG LIFE CHANGE is happening (man do I get it), but I am NOT DYING. I am not even going on one of those Extreme Makeover Reality Shows, where you won't be able to recognize me because I've had my teeth capped, a nose job, and a corporate sponsored shopping spree. I am just having a baby. I have enough worry about my identity being flushed down the toilet just by my own change in focus, but it doesn't help that my friends and family also think I am somehow going... going... GONE.
I have mentioned the mood swings right?
My step dad said on the phone this weekend, "All the women I've ever known at this stage are JUST CRANKY." Yes, and now you can officially add me to that list. I am already a pretty world class complainer. I won the gold medal in rings and vault jumping in the complaining olympics A LONG TIME AGO. It won't be the last time I am cranky or complain. I don't hear anyone saying, "Well, this is the LAST TIME I will see you cranky and complaining." You see? Pregnancy may come and go, but some things are FOREVER.
[UPDATE: So, since writing this very very CRANKY post I have learned that a friend's pregnant wife who is two weeks behind me is having so much BACK TROUBLE she can't even WALK. This has made me decide to SHUT IT. Because cumbersome and uncomfortable are not the same as not being able to walk. I am doing GREAT. Michelle, if you're reading this: MY Bellaband off to you! Hang in there, gal!]
Labels: pregnancy
posted by Summer Pierre at
6:12 AM
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