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11/1/12

10 Things I Wish I Knew Before I Got Pregnant

There are a few things I wish I knew before I got pregnant.  Not that any of that would have made a difference since I was shagging like 6 times a day and that baby was bound to happen, but being prepared is always nice. 

1)  Shagging 6 times a day STOPS.  Immediately. Guys are afraid that their manhood will stab the fetus in the heart and thus destroy said fetus.  Or they fear the baby "will know". And what?  Get jealous?  Whatevs.  Sex stops, and it sucks, because...

2)  You become hornier than any teenage boy has ever been in his life.  The mailbox makes you want to go to pleasure town.  Seeing a shoe will literally result in swollen genitals.  And don't even bother going through the vegetable aisle.  And all this raging sexual desire is fruitless because of 1) and...

3)  You get so big you can't see your crotch, let alone reach it.  This is bad for any chance at rectifying 1) or taming 2), because no one wants to go down there if it hasn't been treated like a lady in months (and thus looks like something out of a 70's porn) and you can't even take care of yourself in the shower 'cause, well, you can't reach it.

4)  Your lady parts will never. NEVER.  Be the same.  They cut you!!!  Did you hear me, ladies? THEY WILL CUT THAT SHIT!!  And that's only if you're lucky enough to have a nice doctor who doesn't let you rip.  ARE YOU HEARING THIS?? RIP!!  As in tear, like a piece of toilet paper.  Your vag.  Broken. OMG... I'm re-living it...

5)  If you are super lucky, you won't get stretch marks (believe it... I didn't get them with number 1).  But your snotty "I didn't get stretch marks" highfalutin ass will be brow-beaten by God with number two.  And they don't go away.  And you get them EVERYWHERE.  Not just on the tummy... oh no.  On your boobs, your thighs, your back....  You become a giant web of glossy pink and white hot mess.  And you stay that way.  FOREVER.  Self tanner ain't gonna hide this mess; you're just screwed.  Might as well trade in that bikini for a burka, 'cause ain't nobody want to see that shake.  Which, as you can imagine, does not bode well for fixing your sexless, pathetic, torn vag ego. Which brings me to...

6)  You will cry.  A lot.  For no reason.  Everyday.  Justin Bieber comes on the radio: sob fest.  You smell popcorn: tears of self loathing. You try to fit in your fat pants: OMG, that one still makes me tear up.

7)  Upon birthing you realize, Holy Donuts Batman!  What did we do!!!  Who the hell decided I was qualified for this?  I am in no condition to take care of someone else! And panic ensues.  And this is okay because...

8) You will never get to sleep again, so you can go ahead and spend every hour of every day worrying about your new baby.  This is God's plan.  It sucks for you, because it ensures you will never be able to fix your hot mess of a body because any ounce of energy not spent on your bundle of joy will be spent trying not to pass out from exhaustion.

9) You will become judgmental of other people's parenting because you will think you are perfect and everyone else is crap.  And you will, in most cases, need to learn to take your head out of your ass.  I didn't really learn this until I had number 2, and I'm still working on it.  But realizing there is always room for improvement will help you be a better mom.  I'm being serious.

10) That the world will revolve around someone else for the first time in your narcissistic, self involved life. Those Loubou's you would have purchased are now plastic super heroes and bunk beds.  The romantic trip you planned to take to Paris for your anniversary will become a Disney cruise complete with obnoxious music, sweaty grandparents,  and candy-induced vomit.  Oh, and that weekly girl's night out will become tea-party Tuesday, and you will be required to wear a feather boa, a velvet hat, and speak with a silly Mary Poppins tone. 

And you will look back at all of it and think, huh? That wasn't so bad after all.

Posted inspired by Theme Thursday at:  http://cloudywithachanceofwine.com/1397-2/

6 comments:

  1. I. LOVED. THIS. You are such an awesome writer. And you're funny as hell, too! All of this is so true. And why the hell do you get so damn horny when you're pregnant? It was torture as I heard the whole, "I just can't do it" speech myself.

    Oh, and FYI - they just let me tear. Fortunately, it wasn't so bad. But why the heck did I go for that Brazilian 6 weeks later?!?!?!?!

    Awesome post! So glad you were able to join this week! And I hope you will continue to join!

    xo

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  2. You are too good to me! I feel like I won an Oscar, crying "You like me, You really like me!!". And I love it!

    I ripped too. Although I didn't know it because I was immobilized like a beached whale due to too much epidural. But my husband saw it. And I figured it out after he finally admitted after two years that he was literally put into a state of shock (hence a shitty sex life for two years... but more on that next week). Thankfully he got over it, and so did I, which leads me to Mini Monkey. And now, once again, the glorious cycle repeats ;)

    I will SO join again! You inspire me :)

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  3. HAHAHAH! You are hilarious! I too was unlucky in the stretch marks department. I have yet to throw away my bikinis, but I don't know why I keep them, because all they're doing is sitting in my drawer reminding me that I used to have a hot bod.

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  4. Oh, I still have mine too. And every year, like a dumbass, I try them on thinking 'it's not gonna be that bad'. Um yeah, it is. Always. I'm just going to stick to maternity suits from here on out. They are ugly and tent-like, so maybe they'll distract from the hot mess that is goin' on underneath. :)

    Thanks so much for dropping me a line! Hope to hear from you again!

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  5. Honey, had I known this would be an entire post about your va-jay-jay, I would have read it with my eyes closed. But too funny (and true) to miss! Take heart, ladies--the stretch marks do fade....about 36 years later.

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  6. Thanks Mom. It's always nice to hear the lady who birthed you say "Va-jay-jay". Stay Classy, Ma ;)

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