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2 May

Joy, and Pain (Pump It Up Pump It Up)

I cannot even begin to tell you how crap I feel. Seriously. Between the ongoing false labor and the muscle-searing leg cramps, the chest-sucking heartburn and the debilitating backache, the no sleep and the no f*cking sleep, I’m this close to asking somebody to just club me in the head so that I can be unconscious for the rest of this pregnancy.

My doctor, today: Well, this baby seems to be over the 90th percentile for size, so it’s not surprising that you’re uncomfortable.

Me: How much bigger are you going to let him get before you get him out of me?

Doctor: (laughs)

Me: No, seriously.

Doctor: We like to let babies come out when they’re ready.

Me: What about when I’m ready? I’m ready now. Seriously. Can’t you just, like, give me a C-section or something? Today?

Doctor: (laughs)

Me: (kills doctor)

I’m just, you know, done. And of course you know, because what else do I do but bitch about it (when, that is, I’m not bitching about other anxieties and issues)?

So, this weekend? I am declaring a moratorium for myself on bitching about pregnancy and motherhood. I declare a moratorium on bitching, period. In part because I am getting just so tired of myself, and in larger part because some very, very dear friends have decided to remind me – and a coupla other knocked up ladies I know – that there’s much to celebrate to about this time, and also, that no-one has a right to be so bitchy when they have such good friends. By throwing a virtual shower. Which has me so bursty in the heart and choked up in the throat that I just don’t know what to say about it.

Go see for yourself. Participate – they’ve got prizes, really cool ones. And also, it’s fun, and I am totally needing me some fun right now, so please get liquored up on my behalf and join in. It’s on until Sunday night.


Another, much more sombre reason to not be a flaming bitch from hell, even though I feel that I am totally justified in my desire to give in to that urge: because I am so lucky to facing a healthy childbirth and – fingers crossed and prayers fervently whispered – a healthy child. I’m facing the greatest of happinesses. Some moms lose their happinesses. I only know this pain at a remove, but what I know of it is already too much. I don’t know how they do it, but they’re writing about it. Go see.