A Tale of Helga- I Gave Birth to Goliath

Sorry for the absence, but I have been running a circus over at my house trying to figure out how to take care of three kids 4 and under. In case you have not heard…

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I did it. I gave birth to my beautiful not-so-little boy.

Hayden Blaine entered the world on June 25, 2017… weighing in at 10 pounds 3 ounces and a whopping 23 inches. The first measurement was 24 inches, but the midwife had the nurse measure again because… no way.

His head and chest measured in at 16 inches, and I was informed that apparently the average head is 13/14 inches and chest 12/13. Suffice to say Hayden is a big boy.

I was kept blissfully (sorta) unaware of the fact that my large, posterior (sunny side up) baby was quite the topic in the hallways while I was attempting to birth him. It was a long, hard labor. I had a nurse who fought successfully to keep me from a c-section (God bless her), and many bets were made about how big this kid was. The midwife would come in, feel my belly, and look at me with a look of pity. “Big boy” was a common comment.

When my water broke the nurse said she didn’t need towels.. she needed blankets.

So ya… with a ton of fluid and a goliath baby… upon entry to the hospital I was pretty much as big as a house.

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At 34 weeks they knew he was 7 pounds. For most ladies, this size would garner a discussion about induction.

Not for me.

Nope.

Not this delicate flower.

I am a viking woman.

Apparently, the doctor saw that these Scandinavian hips were made to carry life.

Push out a 11 lb baby?

Psh.. look at her.. she can do it.

I am Helga. Hear me roar.

An interesting thing happens when you give birth to a child the size of the average two month old. Somehow the social etiquette of strangers asking about your lady parts goes away. Once I reveal how big he was, I can see their eyes shift downwards and start to burn as they begin to internally process the moral quandary about whether or not it is appropriate to ask about what went on down there.

Ya I basically gave birth to the average can of paint or a large house cat.. how do you think it went?

When I was at my oldest son’s 4 year check up the doctor asked me how old my baby was:

Me: “A month.”

Doctor: “Wow. Wow. How big was he?”

Me: “10 lbs 3 oz and 23 in”

Doctor with big eyes: ” Oh wow… did you.. did you.. you know?”

Me: “Give birth naturally?”

Doctor: ” Um ya?’ *Stares at newborn baby the size of a 3 month old*

Me: “Yup”

Silence.

Silence.

Awkward. Silence.

Doctor: ” Oh wow. Well… I guess the other two just paved the way for him.”

Sure lady. Thank you for that. You know I could probably birth a teenager by the fourth baby.

And you can just duplicate this conversation over and over with other strangers, but add in some V tearing questions.

I mean I do not think it is completely normal for complete strangers to ask the state of your lady parts… or to have concern for their recovery… but hey.. maybe I will start being awkward too.

“Oh ya… we are all good… the next baby will probably just fall out.”

“I turned down stitches because I plan on giving birth to twins on the next go and pushing them out at the same time.”

“How am I doing? Pretty good, but you should ask my husband.”

Ok. Ok. I will stop.

We love our Hayden Bug. He was worth it all.

I also really love this blog and love to write. Feel free to add some suggestions as to what I should write about or any suggestions for this space. I want to create a space for dialogue about being a woman, a mother, a wife… with humor, laughter, and love. I would so appreciate your help in getting there!

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PHOTOS COURTESY OF ANGIE KLEIN OF REELS OF JOY PHOTOGRAPHY

 

The Day I Got Whistled At… At 38 Weeks Pregnant

Before my story, we must go over the different stages of pregnancy. So without further adieu I give you the 3.5 stages of pregnancy cuteness:Screen Shot 2015-07-06 at 1.21.49 PM

Early Stage- So we have the early stages of pregnancy where you have a glow and no visible belly. It is in this stage that although you are probably struggling through morning sickness, someone might appreciate that glow and hit on you.

Halfway Point– Midway through your pregnancy, when you are rocking a cute baby bump, it is possible you will run into a guy who is weirdly attracted to pregnant women, and he will hit on you. You will be a little grossed out, but feel a little pride that you still got it. Maybe.

End of Pregnancy– It is a sad truth that you must know, but in the last few weeks before birth… everyone starts to look like a balloon full of water. Everything swells. EVERYTHING. Your face starts to look squishy, smooth, and round… ironically like a baby’s bottom. This is a universal sign that the baby is about to make it’s appearance. It happens to everyone. Small, medium, large… doesn’t matter… every lady looks nice and bloated.

***Special Unicorns End of Pregnancy- But there are the chosen ones. Women like me. We take this Screen Shot 2015-07-06 at 1.20.12 PMend of pregnancy look to a whole new level. Forget cute little bellies… most people who do not know us are convinced we are having twins.

We are the ones who rock the elephant limbs. At the end, we say hello to massive swollen ankles, swollen feet, and swollen legs. We take off our wedding rings for fear we will have to go to the emergency room and have them cut off because our fingers have gotten so big. While your ballooning might resemble that of a child’s party balloon, genetics has blessed us with the ability to balloon to proportions not unlike that of a hot air balloon. No stretch marks all pregnancy? BAM. We only have two weeks left until our due date, but due to the fact that we have gained 15 pounds of water weight in the last week… we get the blessing of the tiger stripes.

We are the proud. We are the few. We are the swollen.   Screen Shot 2015-07-06 at 1.15.57 PM

Story Time:

One day during the last few weeks of my pregnancy, I was attempting to go into labor by walking around my neighborhood. As I waddled back to my house with my toddler in tow, I heard someone whistle at me. “Whew wheeew” I immediately stopped. There is no way. I heard it again. “Whew wheeew” Like a penguin, I waddled in a circle trying to figure out who was whistling at me. “Whew wheew” I figured out which house it was coming from, and I glared at it. Seriously? What kind of creep whistles at an enormously pregnant woman who is pushing her toddler in a stroller? Gross. “Whew wheeew” Someone has some problems. I strutted away from the house and into my home. I was indignant that a man would dare whistle at me when I was with my toddler son and pregnant with another.

Over the next few days I told my family and friends about the creepy man who lived on my street. Every time I told the story I began to think that maybe I wasn’t such an awful looking end of pregnancy lady. Although it was still gross that I got whistled at (I honestly don’t think it is ever OK to whistle at a woman), I began to feel a little more confident in my XL men’s tees and sandals my feet fat stuck out of.

Then one day as I was getting out of my car, I heard it. “Whew wheew” But I was no where near the creepy man’s house?

And that was when I realized… that the creepy man who thought I was cute… was actually a parrot.

The end.

 

 

43 Things Women Think About When They Go To The Doctor… And Ten Things Men Think Of

I recently was talking to my husband about all the things I think about when I go to the doctor.

It never ceases to amaze me how uncomplicated men’s thought lives are.

What women think about when they go to the doctor:

  1. Well I am here. Where is the pen to sign in?
  2. Oh how cute they put a flower on their pens!
  3. Wow the secretary lady has a cute family.
  4. I wonder how old her kids are? I wonder how old she is?
  5. Oh I am a little late… I think I will just round down.
  6. Where to sit? I think I will sit over here.. that way there is no one next to me.
  7. Hmm… I should read something.
  8. Seriously no People or US Weekly?
  9. Why do they only put out family mags and Sports Illustrated?
  10. Golf? There is an entire magazine devoted to golf?
  11. Oh Good Housekeeping… I guess it is better than nothing.
  12. Ooo… the food looks so good.
  13. I wonder if they are going to weigh me? MjAxMy1jZGRiMjdkZjA5OGU0MmZh_5251a63fc1a63
  14. I hate when they weigh me.
  15.  I swear doctor’s offices rig their scales so they weigh people heavier.
  16. They want me to have a weight problem.
  17.  Shoot. I wore boots. Will it be weird if I ask if I could take my boots off before they weigh me?
  18. Why did I eat so much beforehand?
  19. Seriously I should have worn shorts, flip flops, and a tank top.
  20. I probably can take away like 12 pounds due to the fact that I have eaten, I am wearing a ton of clothes, and their scale is probably broken.
  21. Time to go back.. it is the moment of truth.
  22. Screw it… I am totally taking my shoes off.
  23. Wow this is taking longer than I thought. I wonder if it is irritating her that I want my shoes off.
  24. I am never eating again. Seriously.
  25. I wonder if she is judging me? Should I say something?
  26. Well she isn’t the tiniest person either so she can’t judge me.
  27. Muscle weighs more than fat right?
  28. I think I will just put my shoes on in the room.
  29. I wonder if there are different sizes of blood pressure cuffs?
  30. Wow.. is my arm really that big?
  31. Good blood pressure and pulse. Thats right.. I may weigh a ton but I am healthy.
  32. Well time to wait 94804358 minutes for the doctor.
  33. Shoot I should have brought my magazine back here.
  34. Ahh.. this is taking too long.
  35. I wonder what they are talking about out there?
  36. I have never heard of half these drugs. I wonder if the doctor prescribes these exclusively.
  37. Why are they usually for birth control?
  38. Birth control reps do work.
  39. I wonder what is in these drawers?
  40. Maybe.. I will take a look.
  41. But what if they come in and catch me?
  42. Just one little peek…
  43. Oh hello doctor!

What men (according to my husband) think about when they go to the doctor:

  1. How long is this going to take?
  2. Oh magazine.. I will read… this one.
  3. Time to go back.
  4. Hmm.. cute nurse.
  5.  Blank. Nada.
  6. This is going to take forever.
  7. Blank. Nada.
  8. Time for checkup. Finally.
  9. Information.
  10. Done.

My husband was in awe of my list.

“I forget you sign in. Wouldn’t occur to me to look at the receptionist’s pictures. I don’t think about the magazines. Forgot you get weighed. Might as well be a white room with nothing in it… a black hole really. You go in… sit down… he tells you you are healthy or not healthy… what to do… then you go home. Seriously a black hole for time… don’t even know how long I am there. I don’t think I could even come up with fifteen things.”

 

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Working out after Baby: Postpartum Fun

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Ah…. the first workouts after having a baby… glorious. I mean who doesn’t like feeling like their pelvis is going to fall off every time they attempt to run? Or how about those nice and tender milk engorged chests smashed against the pavement as you will every part of your body to do a push up.

It is amazing to what lengths our vanity will take us. Ya Ya Ya… you want to feel healthy blah blah blah… ya me too… but I would also like to not feel like my tummy was a template for the design of Jabba the Hut. I would also like to get out of maternity pants sometime this century.

And so we endure the tortures of postpartum workouts.

As soon as I was given the go ahead to work out by my doctor I headed off to a fit camp run by a very wonderful couple who specialize in body pain. (I know this because they helped me drop over 20 pounds before my wedding.) Anyways, I showed up knowing I would probably have to take it easy.. cause you know.. I had just given birth six weeks ago so I might be a tad behind. I have always been athletic and I am a young mom… so how bad could it be?

It could be bad.

We did an excercise that required us to run around a sports park and whenever we came to these concrete planter boxes we would use them to do box jumps.

So I start the run.

I swear to you it felt like I was trying to run through mud. I couldn’t make my legs move as fast as I wanted to. I probably could have rolled to my destination faster than I could with my running ability. This was a completely surreal feeling because usually when I run slow it is because I am tired and lazy. But now.. my body was refusing to do what I told it to. Not to mention my lung capacity seemed to drop about 75% the moment I began my run aka slowest jog ever.

“Ok.. Ok.. it may take a bit to catch up,”  I reason.

Now it is time to jump.

Other ladies have already begun their planter box jumps due to the fact that their legs actually listened to them. Being the competitor that I am, I figure I will do my box jumps as fast as I can to catch up with the others.  I had done these before I was pregnant so I thought.. no sweat. The planter boxes aren’t even that high.. I will be fine.

Nope.

The first jump I attempt my feet don’t even make it onto the top of the planter box, and my face almost smacks the concrete planter box as my body makes its way down. Completely embarassed at how pathetic I was and how clumsy I looked, I just mumbled to the lady next to me that I just had  a baby… hoping she will understand.

This statement has now become my mantra.

They should have shirts that say “I just had a baby __ months ago” or “I promise I didn’t let myself go.. I just had a baby.” I think they would sell well.

I’d buy one.  

On a sidenote:

I just want to take a moment to acknowledge the women who lose their baby weight quickly. You know the small petite ladies you see working out in their sports bras three months after pregnancy… or the ones who don’t have to work out at all. Ya.. the ones who announce two months later that their jeans fit. I have seen you. I know you actually do exist.

 

And I curse you. That is all.  

 

 

 

Five Things I Never Understood Until I Had a Baby

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1. Childbirth hurts.

I know what you are thinking… well duh. But no… no no no no no no ad infinitum. If you have had a baby, you catch my drift. You are apart of an elite club of women who can truly understand that God was not kidding when he said a women’s curse would be pain in childbirth. Congratulations.

You see.. the only pain I had ever experienced in my life was pain that I could grasp. I could wrap my brain around it. Childbirth is an all encompassing… over the moon… I would like to drown in a bottle of vodka along with a handful of drugs... type of pain. Ya I said it. Apparently, while I was in labor, I told Taylor that we would be adopting after this baby was born. Yet somehow after the fact my crazy Mom brain still wants to procreate.

2. Baby On Board window signs

“Oh you have a baby on board? How nice. I will make sure to ram my car into the next car over.”

These were my thoughts on these signs pre-baby, but something happens after you grow a tiny human and give birth to said little human. You really do become Mamma Bear. Everything is about the safety of your child. This is why I now find myself wishing I had not gotten rid of the “Baby on Board” sign I got when registering for baby stuff.

“Lady, why are you tailgating me!? Can you not see that if we were to get into an accident you would rear end me and the first person to feel the impact would be my perfect, tiny human!!!?”

“Yes.. I know I am driving slow, but can’t you see I have a “Baby on Board”? I have precious cargo I need to keep safe. Your ability to get to your destination five minutes faster means nothing to me.”

Whereas I once spent my time talking my way out of speeding tickets and cursing tediously slow and careful drivers… I now find myself critcizing other cars for speeding and their inability to drive safely around my car. I am that tedious mom driver. Which brings me to my next point...

3. Mom anxiety is real. 

I always marveled at some of the things my Mom and other mothers would fret about.

“Mom, you are a great mom, why are you so fixated on trying to be perfect for me?”

“Yes Mom, I know I am loved. Why do you keep asking?”

Well.. I get it now. I understand that fear that maybe my inadequacies could adversely affect the most precious thing in the world to me. I understand now why I wasn’t allowed to spend the night at some people’s houses. I understand why my Mom can’t watch movies that include child abuse. I understand why the news can be painful to watch as you see all these horrible things happening in the world… the world your baby lives in. I understand why my Mom, even when she was exhausted, couldn’t go to sleep until we were all home. I understand why when I left for college, she cried every time she walked up the stairs and saw all my pictures. I understand now how you can love so much it hurts.

As a new Mom, I find myself having to verbally remind my brain that not only are most of the things I worry about not going to happen, but it really is not healthy to be so anxious. From worrying about my competence as a mother, whether he was put in the car seat correctly, whether something I ate might hurt his tummy to worrying about SIDS and colds and his future well-being, I find myself now fighting a little bit of anxiety. I guess it is part of the job. When you have a love that is so completely all-consuming, it is natural to have to fight off a little bit of fear for their well-being.

Being a mother really requires you to put a lot of trust in the Lord and the love He has for you and your children. It really has become a necessity in my life. But even so.. I think worry is a lifetime Mom struggle.

4. Understanding your baby’s cries

I really never got this. All babies’ cries sounded the same to me. Annoying. No.. but really… I had no idea how mother’s claimed to have this sixth sense when it came to their baby’s cries.

And I gotta tell ya..  it has been an amazing discovery that yes… babies do have different cries. Holden has different cries for different needs and feelings, and I usually know what they are! Say what?! How did this happen?

I feel like all-knowing Yoda.

Change his diaper I must. Feed his tummy I must. Sleep deprived little one is.

BAM.

Crying desists.

Ya.. I am good. 

5. Finding such pure joy in a little person. 

The other day I was talking and playing with Holden. He was cooing and smiling and then… he giggled. We kept this up for a few more minutes before I realized… I was crying. 

I was crying from the pure happiness I experienced by just watching him smile and giggle at me. He is so sweet. I never thought I would have so much fun just by merely having my baby smile and giggle at me. I mean I really am in awe. My heart is just so full.

I came in to my room the other day, and Tay was just staring at our boy as he slept. I stood next to Tay, and we watched little Holden crack a few smiles in his sleep.  Tay commented on how cute our little guy was. I agreed. It was such a simple and blissful moment.

Being a parent really is such a wonderful thing. I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Before baby, so much of my identity was wound up in my education and career aspirations, and to be honest, during my pregnancy, I really had to process through having to put some of these things on hold. I didn’t know if I would love motherhood. But now, I can honestly say that Holden is my greatest accomplishment in life, and I find so much joy in being his Mom.

 

 

First Night Home with Baby

The day we brought Holden home is what I think is a pretty standard going home story. After being at the hospital since Saturday night by Tuesday Tay and I were ready to sleep in our own beds.. I use the term sleep very loosely here. They wheeled me out to the car while Tay carried Holden in the car seat. I marveled at my little boy the entire one hour drive home. It was so surreal. I had so many emotions I almost felt like I was on emotion overload and couldn’t feel anything. He was so perfect. How could anyone be so perfect? It is mind boggling. Anyways… we get home and spend the day happily loving on our boy.

Then came night. 

So I did not get much sleep in the hospital. I didn’t really sleep at all through my labor ( 2 pm-10 am)… even after the magical drug angel from heaven paid me a visit I still couldn’t sleep. Apparently some people can do that… and I am not one of them. Then after he was born, I was on such a high I couldn’t really sleep at all in the days to follow. I just wanted to stare at him. I wanted to make sure he was real. I wanted to make sure he was ok. I wanted to cuddle him. I wanted to watch Tay cuddle him. I mean seriously.. apparently mother OCD kicks in immediately after birth because I was completely obsessive.

So what’s that… like three nights of hardly any sleep?

Suffice to say I was exhausted.. but I still couldn’t sleep.

I realized how tired I was when I went to change his diaper for the first time… and had a meltdown.

Sidenote: 

Yes the first night home was the first time I changed his diaper. Taylor is a super awesome human being, as well as a stupendous Dad and husband, so he changed every diaper in the hospital. Tay was the one who could get Holden to calm down when he was crying… which was when he was getting his diaper changed. It was very sweet. And I think my Mom changed him all day that first day home. 

Anyways.. I go to change Holden’s diaper and he begins to scream bloody murder.

I start to panic.

Tay comes over and holds Holden’s hands to calm the poor child while I try to maneuver a diaper off and onto this wriggling and screaming baby.

“Why in the world am I having such a hard time with this?” “Why can’t I do this?” “I’ve been around babies before.. why is this so hard?” 

I’m telling you I was getting pretty anxious. I couldn’t concentrate because he was so upset, and my mind was foggy from lack of sleep. I just couldn’t get the diaper on the baby and all I could think was that I was such a failure as a mother because I couldn’t get a diaper on my boy, and he was screaming like I was torturing him.

THEN as soon as Holden gets a good breeze on his private parts… he pees… Directly into Taylor’s face. So in response.. Tay lets go of Holden’s hands.. This in turn freaks the babe out… and he starts to flail… pee is whirling around the room like water shooting from a fire hose… and I… in all my new mother sleep deprived glory… am about to have a panic attack.

I think you can guess what happens next. I get the diaper on the baby and immediately hand Tay our boy. I look from him to Holden and start sobbing. I was so so tired and felt so guilty because I couldn’t do such a simple Mom task. I cried that I was failing at life and that I was a terrible Mom… all over a diaper.

My wonderful, supportive Tay just held me……..

and laughed.

You will be happy to know I am a pro diaper changer now. It’s amazing how you really do just figure things out. I often have people ask me how it’s going, and they always follow it up by saying “It’s hard work having a baby huh?”

Well you know.. it is hard work to have a baby… but it doesn’t feel like work. I guess it is one of those things you don’t understand until you are a parent. For in the midst of pee being sprayed all over God’s green earth, spit up in your hair and all over your outfit before church, or feeding your baby every 1 1/2 hours because he has jaundice… there is so much joy. There are smiles. There are new milestones. There are cuddles. There is so much love. So yes it is hard work.. and yes sometimes I feel absolutely exhausted… but when I look back on my day.. it doesn’t really feel like work. I honestly can’t imagine doing anything else. How someone so little can make your world so much better is kind of mind blowing.

The perfection that is a tiny baby is proof enough not only that there is a God… but that He is wonderful and good. 

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The Return of the Blog: Tales of Pregnancy Bliss

I am back! I apologize for the extremely long hiatus from writing, but I was off growing, birthing, and now caring for my own little human being. Since I am no longer in the midwest, I decided to make a new blog to go along with my new life. In my “About Me” section I have put the links to my old blogs in case you wanted to reminisce.

I have thought a lot about what my first post should be about. Should I dive right into my own personal birth story? Should I rehash the memories of my last days of pregnancy? Should I talk about what being a new mom is like? Well.. I have decided to go in chronological order. I have chosen to write a little snippet of my last few days of pregnancy followed by a list of things you should never say to a pregnant woman. Hopefully my family doesn’t mind reading about what was a strenous time period for them. Why was it hard for them when I was the pregnant one? Read on my friends… Read on.

I would like to start my story off with a picture. You know how they say a picture speaks a thousand words? In my case that is terribly true. I could explain why, but instead… just take a look:

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This picture was taken on July 17… four days before the H-man was born. I don’t really think this picture does the swelling I endured justice. In the last few weeks of my pregnancy I felt ginormous. Because of the heat… and I assume genetics… I was retaining a ridiculous amount of water. Baby H had his little butt wedged all up in my ribs, and I swore the doctor was going to tell me that he had broken a rib… not to mention the bladder headbutting I endured. When I slept at night I would attempt to lay on a side… until that side went numb.. then I proceeded to hit Taylor.. who was soundly sleeping on the other side of the bed… so that he could be my own personal fork lift and flip me onto my other side.

To give you an idea of how big I was/felt… here is an example:

One evening Taylor and I were visiting his parents. We decided to sit outside in the nice cool night air. I wobbled out to the porch with everyone. This is when I made the biggest mistake of the night.. instead of sitting on the patio furniture.. I just grabbed an outdoor chair. It was one of those chairs made out of like sturdy plastic fabric. Well… after lowering myself into the chair (which took some effort that ultimately culminated into falling into the chair), I began to just relax and enjoy the conversation. Suddenly.. I hear a rip. And before I knew it..  half of my butt is hanging out under the chair. Yes.. you guessed it. Under my weight.. the chair had ripped. I just looked up at the horrified faces of my in-laws as they tried to stifle a giggle while trying to make me feel better all at once. I could have cried and laughed at the same time. Of course I would cause a chair to break in mid conversation… all belly my butt… my big fat butt.

So anyways.. by about 35 weeks… Gone were the “cute” days of pregnancy. I contend those days last about five business days, but I digress. I began to have a very sincere pity and understanding for the morbidly obese. My feet hurt.. scratch that.. my entire body hurt… I was so huge I could only wear Taylor’s clothing and even some of those shirts were not fitting me… only one pair of sandals could fit my huge feet… and there was no position I could get into that was comfy. I started to sweat more than any woman should due to the nice new layers of fat I had accumulated. I was out of breath walking up the stairs. So pretty much… I was grumpy. My mom later told me she warned people that were visiting me that I may be a little curt and unfriendly. I apologize to anyone I wasn’t nice to… Including, but not limited to the poor people at the grocery store. Public outings in crowded places were really not my thing while I was Large Marge. I was so irritable… having to swerve my cart around a string of people about drove me up the wall. I had to resist the urge to bulldoze my way through the aisles. Anyone hurt would be collateral damage I reasoned. I couldn’t be held responsible for the people who chose to take up the entire aisle with their shopping cart and children. I was such a nice prego lady. You see.. the whole world revolved around me and my discomfort. Seriously… in those last few days I just wanted that baby out.. I didn’t care if he had to come out of my nostril.. that baby needed out. Because of my obsession with giving birth and my discomfort I was pretty self absorbed. So I use this post now as an apology to my family for my chronic grumpiness. Sorry!

Anyways..  I would like to just end with the things you NEVER say to a pregnant woman unless you want to die a painful death by Hulk Smash. And yes all these things were said to me…

1. “You are only (insert number here) weeks along!? Wow. When my sister was that big.. she was about ready to give birth.(Awkward pause) But thats just probably because she is tiny.”

2. “You are (insert number) weeks along?! So is my daughter!! She is definitely not as big as you though…”

3. (In my last few very uncomfortable weeks of pregnancy) “This is your first child? Oh you are definitely going over your due date.”

–WOMAN… why on earth would you wish that upon me!! Hold on while I think of curses to rain down upon you.–

4. “Are you having twins? You are definitely having twins.”

       –Actually no I am not, but thank you for pointing out how huge I am.–

And in conclusion…

 

Please do not rub my belly if you are a stranger. Thank you.

 

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