I’m going to do something horrible.
I took a picture of myself when I had just found out I was pregnant, just to have a reference point. I’m going to go find it in my phone and post it here and try not to get upset. But also there’s a reason for me to post this. People do not get what pregnancy looks like! This is what it looks like, people! LOOK AT IT.
This is me at almost 4 weeks pregnant:
That’s from April 6, 2016. This is me today, at 30 weeks pregnant:
This is what 30 weeks pregnant looks like. Get accustomed.
Now excuse me while I cry into my probiotic yogurt.
Just kidding, I’m not crying, it’s fine, this is what happens. It’s just that on TV, fake pregnant people look like they are about 25 weeks pregnant and then their water breaks dramatically. I look very pregnant and I still have 10 weeks until my due date. This is the kind of shit that makes people say inappropriate things. And not just to me, and whatever, I can survive dummies saying I’m about to pop, but there was a thread on my mom Facebook group the other day about strangers saying ridiculous things to pregnant women about how big they are and about how they are definitely having twins. And then there was another one about not at all pregnant women being routinely asked if they’re pregnant! That is way worse. Get it together, world. Stop looking at women’s bodies and judging and commenting. We don’t look at a man and ask him if he has diabetes. It’s not fucking appropriate.
Remember how I kept saying that I will be induced at 38 weeks? Well that might be 39 weeks now. Because of medical advancements or research or whatever bullshit. No, it’s good. But I have to get my head on straight, and this is an extra week and I don’t like it one bit.
Do you guys want to know what I had for breakfast today? Sure, I’ll tell you. Yogurt, granola, walnuts, prunes cut up on top, Metamucil, and a stool softener (among many other pills, per last week’s post). It’s like that part in Lord of the Rings when the army of orcs comes over a hill and it’s like wow that’s so many orcs! The orcs are my efforts to get poop out of my body. I have so many orcs. THE POOP DOESN’T STAND A CHANCE.
Just a normal, not-confusing orc metaphor.
This week in Evan updates, I can’t pick him up anymore. Which is fine, he can walk perfectly well. The first three days of this week he was a real jerk, so many tantrums, such a Terrible Two-year-old. Then yesterday he was great. I don’t know why, I feel like there isn’t really an explanation for anything he does anymore except that he is a human being with a rich tapestry of emotions guiding him through his life. Sometimes I’m a jerk and nobody starts frantically googling developmental stages. This is just what the world is like now.
He turns 2 on Sunday. We are having a party that involves what will surely be a terrible-looking Finding Nemo cake (made by me) and some fruit and vegetable platters and probably meatballs because I’m pregnant and hungry.
Two years ago today, I was going into the hospital to start my induction. I was like THIS IS HAPPENING!!!!! and then it took two more days so not really. But it makes me nostalgic.
He’s a good kid. He laughs a lot, and loudly, which makes sense because Billy and I are both big on laughing too loud for an inappropriate length of time. There are worse things to have run in your family.