No Shame

One of the greatest things about being pregnant is not really giving a flying fuck about anything anymore. PB&J? Bring me all the carbs! Two appetizers? Well DON'T MIND IF I DO! Oh sorry, I farted. YES IT WAS ME. But the best part about being a first-time expecto is hearing "oh yeah, girl that's totally normal" from every former-pregnant-now-mom-official woman you know. 

"Girl I got restless leg syndrome."
"My poop changed color and consistency!" 
"I have never made more snot in my life than I do now." 
"I can't look at chicken." 
"The produce section of the grocery store freaks me out."  

I love the camaraderie that comes with shared experience - especially among us girls. Pregnancy seems to be the great equalizer - (except for those freaks who never have anything bad happen to them; they're not real and should be banned from society brandished as freaks.) boob pain, sex dreams, swollen feet, varicose veins, overflowing sinuses, constipation, all-day puking, nausea, extreme fatigue - most of us get some thing or many things. Just today at a local event, I spoke with a friend who's roughly 8 weeks pregnant and we lamented about random sneezing. Her's? A daily double sneeze that shakes walls. Mine? A fearsome triple that wakes the dead. Neither of us have colds or allergies - we just sneeze. That shit's weird. Also weird? The nosebleeds. Like the huge nosebleed I got at my birthday dinner. There I am sitting in a gorgeous restaurant with all my non-pregnant skinny well-groomed friends and after those three sneezes I damn near had a CSI moment at the table. Thankfully, I stocked up on tissues and avoided an all out CLEAN UP AT TABLE 4 moment. 

And here during all this camaraderie is when I begin to notice the haters, the dissenters - the women who point and judge at every single decision made. For instance, we have good friends that scoff at us for not finding out the sex and say shit like: "Hope you're prepared for all the ugly yellow and green shit you're going to get." 

Wow. Thanks guys! First off, there are more than 4 colors in the world. Secondly, who the hell says girls can't wear blue? I love blue. Jewel tone blue, turquoise, Carolina blue (that's a thing here), light blue etc.  I love most shades of pink - dark fuschia, a light coral and deep mauve. Yes those are all pinks. SHUT UP IT'S MY BLOG.  But mostly there's a palette of colors that is just now becoming popular for a gender neutral room - grays, oranges, turquoise(s), reds, beiges, etc. And while I am no Martha Stewart I certainly hope that I can come up with something less cliche than pink and blue. Fuck it, maybe I'll emo the whole thing with white, black and giant splashes of red - reminiscent of my nosebleeds. 

Granted, colors make up a small part of the judgement. Names, diet, exercise (choice of, amount of), and husband participation have become fodder for whispers and dinner table conversation. And while it's hard for me to cry - CAN'T WE JUST ALL GET ALONG? I feel the need to. This is the weirdest most amazing thing our bodies do and yeah sometimes it sucks (HI THREE AM... AGAIN) but for the most part? It's kinda fucking amazing. And there's no way I can tell someone else how to make the weird and the painful tolerable or manageable. If Spaghetti-Os is the only thing that you can eat without throwing up then get to Costco. If a daily 45 min on an elliptical machine keeps you from throwing a gallon of milk at your husband, then by all means pedal away. Should you eat more than just Spaghetti Os? Yep. Should you maybe throw a yoga class in with that elliptical routine? Absolutely as my hips hurt just thinking about it. But I eat Reese's Peanut Butter Puffs every morning because they're fucking delicious and have fewer nutritional elements than my sofa cushions. I am pretty sure I didn't eat a single non-fried thing last Friday. Hmmm maybe the salad the fried Asian shrimp was served on? That counts right?? 

Look, I can't say I don't judge or make comments. It hurts when I hear people complain about being pregnant when I know so many who are draining bank accounts and sanity in order to get the chance. Or when I read that some woman ran a half-marathon at 17 weeks pregnant - in 2:32 no less! (Bitch. Amazing Bitch but Bitch nonetheless) But let's take a second and revel in the fact that men can't do this and doctors can guess how it's done but they still don't have 1/3 of the answers; this shit is crazyamazinginsanelunacy - and the kid isn't even here yet. 

Soapbox closed.