Reading my last post, I find it quite humorous to be panicked with a whopping 90 days left. Now? Now, I'm in the home-stretch. I cant believe it!
I'm in so much glorious, beautiful pain that I cant contain my anxiety about finally getting the opportunity to push lol. This is the realest shit ever. In the beginning, when I had a cute little bump and we realized we were having a little girl, I looked into Malcolm's eyes and said (key romantic, hopeful music) "Let's try for a boy after this one..." Psych! Fuck that, and I mean it. I literally need to absolutely forget what this experience is like towards the end before I agree to have another child. I can't wear flip flops, my feet are swollen, sitting hurts, laying down hurts, walking feels ok but I get scared I'm going to induce my labor because Zola starts fidgeting around the longer I'm standing.
On top of my aches and pains, I feel like an alien; a beautiful alien but still, an alien. I'm thinking of getting a shirt that I'll only wear in public with my due date and what I'm having so strangers will stop being intrigued by my glowing orb of a belly.
"When are you due?"
...Naturally, my response would be:
"Why does it matter? I'm miserable anyway and only came in this store for Doritos and cream cheese. I appreciate your inquiry and I'm flattered that you're interested but leave me the fuck alone. Please."
But instead, I smile and politely say "July 28th" then I get the "WOW! You're going to pop! I don't think you're going to make it until the end of July!"
Well...who the hell asked you what you think? If I don't "make it", oh well. If I do, whoopdy-doo, stranger.Thanks for your ever-so-warranted opinion.
I don't mean to come off as rude but this is not a conversation I wish to have with someone who I don't know. You're a stranger and probably wouldn't have talked to me on any other day if I wasn't pregnant. Are you a creep, son? Oh, hell nawl. *Slaps stranger's hand away from my belly* Hey! What the...*Slaps stranger's other hand from my fro* Stranger Danger, Zola!Stranger Danger!
The best part about pregnancy for me: I have so much confidence and don't care if I make people uncomfortably ashamed for wanting to touch me.
Stranger: "I hope you don't mind, can I touch your belly?"
My response: "I hope you don't mind but fuck no, you cannot."
Or it usually comes out like: "No, she's not moving right now anyway."
Or of course, the most common one I love to say is: "No, that makes me feel uncomfortably awkward."
I don't say sorry to preface any of these statements because I'm not sorry and there is no need to apologize for not allowing your weird ass to touch on me when I'm vulnerable and swollen and aggravated and in a hurry to get my cheese cake on these taste buddies of mine (yes, I have a taste for things containing cream cheese lately).
Who walks up to people and pets them? I've never asked to touch another person's belly, hair, nose, eyeball, hands, whatever.
If I know you, or I am familiar with you, that's different. I don't mind chatting at all with a familiar face. I must admit though, and I did this with Tina and Lizzy, I'm really careful about who I allow my baby to share energy with. I've always believed that people are capable of spreading bad intentions or bad energy to your baby's environment through touching/rubbing/petting/talking to your belly. I've believed very strongly in this theory ever since I was little. I think it might even be an accurate guess that my theory came from watching Disney's Sleeping Beauty back in the day. Anyway, I am forever faithful in this belief and I'm very particular about allowing strangers to touch my baby belly because of this belief. I don't feel she needs your energy if it won't benefit her growth and development in a positive way. If I let everyone touch her while she's just a belly, who knows what misfortune I'm willingly bringing upon this child. But hey, this could be too deep for some of you to grasp as rational. To me, it makes perfect since without any explanation or justification of the matter.
I also hate when people ask me "Are you having a shower?"
Yes, eventually I am but I did not plan on inviting you because I do not know you so "No, I'm not having one..."
So anyway,speaking of a shower, I have good news. My dad's fiance is planning my shower for me. I know, I know...I have thought some rather horrible things about her. There is no excuse for that. There may be reasons, but definitely no excuse. I'm not a "child" by definition but in the case of my parents separating, me being their adult-child, I will refer to myself as the child, I guess. It's hard seeing your parents in a different element than what you're accustomed to. I'm sure whoever was to come in as the new spouse would've caught hell plus some from me, especially considering the depth of my loyalty to family...I realized though that some things are not a problem, just a change. She don't deserve anger or ill-feelings from me because she did nothing to me, plus it's not even about me. My dad is happy, my mom is happy. I'm happy that they are both happy. End of story.
I'm in so much glorious, beautiful pain that I cant contain my anxiety about finally getting the opportunity to push lol. This is the realest shit ever. In the beginning, when I had a cute little bump and we realized we were having a little girl, I looked into Malcolm's eyes and said (key romantic, hopeful music) "Let's try for a boy after this one..." Psych! Fuck that, and I mean it. I literally need to absolutely forget what this experience is like towards the end before I agree to have another child. I can't wear flip flops, my feet are swollen, sitting hurts, laying down hurts, walking feels ok but I get scared I'm going to induce my labor because Zola starts fidgeting around the longer I'm standing.
On top of my aches and pains, I feel like an alien; a beautiful alien but still, an alien. I'm thinking of getting a shirt that I'll only wear in public with my due date and what I'm having so strangers will stop being intrigued by my glowing orb of a belly.
"When are you due?"
...Naturally, my response would be:
"Why does it matter? I'm miserable anyway and only came in this store for Doritos and cream cheese. I appreciate your inquiry and I'm flattered that you're interested but leave me the fuck alone. Please."
But instead, I smile and politely say "July 28th" then I get the "WOW! You're going to pop! I don't think you're going to make it until the end of July!"
Well...who the hell asked you what you think? If I don't "make it", oh well. If I do, whoopdy-doo, stranger.Thanks for your ever-so-warranted opinion.
I don't mean to come off as rude but this is not a conversation I wish to have with someone who I don't know. You're a stranger and probably wouldn't have talked to me on any other day if I wasn't pregnant. Are you a creep, son? Oh, hell nawl. *Slaps stranger's hand away from my belly* Hey! What the...*Slaps stranger's other hand from my fro* Stranger Danger, Zola!Stranger Danger!
The best part about pregnancy for me: I have so much confidence and don't care if I make people uncomfortably ashamed for wanting to touch me.
Stranger: "I hope you don't mind, can I touch your belly?"
My response: "I hope you don't mind but fuck no, you cannot."
Or it usually comes out like: "No, she's not moving right now anyway."
Or of course, the most common one I love to say is: "No, that makes me feel uncomfortably awkward."
I don't say sorry to preface any of these statements because I'm not sorry and there is no need to apologize for not allowing your weird ass to touch on me when I'm vulnerable and swollen and aggravated and in a hurry to get my cheese cake on these taste buddies of mine (yes, I have a taste for things containing cream cheese lately).
Who walks up to people and pets them? I've never asked to touch another person's belly, hair, nose, eyeball, hands, whatever.
If I know you, or I am familiar with you, that's different. I don't mind chatting at all with a familiar face. I must admit though, and I did this with Tina and Lizzy, I'm really careful about who I allow my baby to share energy with. I've always believed that people are capable of spreading bad intentions or bad energy to your baby's environment through touching/rubbing/petting/talking to your belly. I've believed very strongly in this theory ever since I was little. I think it might even be an accurate guess that my theory came from watching Disney's Sleeping Beauty back in the day. Anyway, I am forever faithful in this belief and I'm very particular about allowing strangers to touch my baby belly because of this belief. I don't feel she needs your energy if it won't benefit her growth and development in a positive way. If I let everyone touch her while she's just a belly, who knows what misfortune I'm willingly bringing upon this child. But hey, this could be too deep for some of you to grasp as rational. To me, it makes perfect since without any explanation or justification of the matter.
I also hate when people ask me "Are you having a shower?"
Yes, eventually I am but I did not plan on inviting you because I do not know you so "No, I'm not having one..."
So anyway,speaking of a shower, I have good news. My dad's fiance is planning my shower for me. I know, I know...I have thought some rather horrible things about her. There is no excuse for that. There may be reasons, but definitely no excuse. I'm not a "child" by definition but in the case of my parents separating, me being their adult-child, I will refer to myself as the child, I guess. It's hard seeing your parents in a different element than what you're accustomed to. I'm sure whoever was to come in as the new spouse would've caught hell plus some from me, especially considering the depth of my loyalty to family...I realized though that some things are not a problem, just a change. She don't deserve anger or ill-feelings from me because she did nothing to me, plus it's not even about me. My dad is happy, my mom is happy. I'm happy that they are both happy. End of story.
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