I have crazy eyes in this picture. This is me trying to look neutral.
Also I figured out how to make it so this shows up facing the right direction. I’m pretty much ready for my BS in Computer Science now, thanks.
I didn’t post last week because I couldn’t get it up after riding the elevator with someone who talked to me AT LENGTH about how much weight I’ve gained. She asked me how much I’ve gained so far and then went on to say that it looks like I’ve gained a lot and I will have to lose a lot. Or she might have been saying I should lose some now? Hard to say. She asked me how much I gained with my first pregnancy. She said “wow” a lot. This was the most on-the-nose of all the horrible conversations I’ve had this pregnancy about how different I look, and she’s not originally from this country, but all the same, she can rot in hell. After she’s lived a long, full life. I don’t want her to die right now. But I want her to be stuck in eternal hellfire after she does die. I think that’s fair.
I’ve already talked about this. You guys know how I feel about it. It’s uncool? It makes me feel bad? It is perpetuating the notion of the patriarchy that women are valued only for their bodies? I’m not trying to even be like “tell me I look good” because I think I look fine, or I look how I look when I’m pregnant. It’s fine, I’m not worried. Let me reiterate that I gained and lost 75 pounds over the course of about 18 months when I was pregnant and postpartum with Evan. It’s fine! Scientifically, doctors are like “don’t do that” but also I can’t really control it. I even tried this time to eat more healthfully than I did last time, and it makes no difference. This is what my body does. I AM NOT MAD ABOUT IT. I AM MAD AT YOU FOR THINKING THOUGHTS AND SAYING WORDS ABOUT IT, PEOPLE OF THE WORLD.
Anyway. I’m doing great. Haha. No, I am.
Last pregnancy, around this time, I had terrible sciatica and carpal tunnel syndrome. Which meant I couldn’t empty the dishwasher because it required bending over. I couldn’t use my phone properly because my thumb didn’t reach all the way across the screen. I was a fucking mess. I couldn’t walk places, I couldn’t cook, I spent a lot of time lying on the couch, being miserable. This time, I’m still up and about, in limited pain. Last night I even slept pretty well! I mean, I have a cold, which is bullshit, but considering what I was dealing with last time, I’m pretty happy with how things are going.
Here’s a thing I read that was really interesting. It’s a little bit about how being captured and forced to eat a deer fetus in the woods while your child dies is a little bit like having a hard time breastfeeding. I am not summarizing it well. I liked it, take a read if you’re interested! It’s basically saying take it fucking easy on yourself, mothers of 2016. Don’t let people tell you things.
You are the fatness you are right now and nobody can take that away from you or assign a value to it. Everyone should be a little fat for awhile, just for the life experience. I think Tina Fey said this in Bossypants. I can’t find the quote. Just trust me. It’s actually kind of fun if you can ignore the looks you get. Fuck looks. Pass the Oreos.