Around that time you start doing things you never thought youd do when you were 20 weeks along and super excited about your pregnancy/still fit in normal people clothes.
Its where you curse anyone who can button their jeans.
Its where you greet news of a new pregnancy with the phrase “Im so sorry” (not because youre really sorry, of course youre happy. You are just a miserable fuck who should have been jailed at about week 34).
Your esophagus burns itself down, despite your Pepcid+Tums+Papaya Extract combo.
When everyone looks at you and says “When Im pregnant I wont be as fat/crabby/shitty as she is” (yeah - weve all said it).
You start to hate everything. I hate getting up. I hate lying down. I hate tv, and I hate outside. I hate everything except cookies - because no one should hate cookies.
You start to make bargains with the baby. You tell the baby you will buy it shiny toys and a Jeep and its own condo if it will just COME THE FUCK OUT.
Sayings like lighting crotch and extreme pelvic pressure are in your everyday vocabulary.
The new interventionist on Intervention really pisses you off. Where are Jeff and the old lady that needs botox?
You sit and refresh Facebook a lot so you can see your friends doing all that stuff you used to love to do, but couldnt do right now if you wanted to because you are too damn tired. And fat.
Truth is, I wish this misery on everyone because of course its 100% worth it. And trust me, when you all are fat and unhappy and want to kick puppies, youll appreciate having a sympathetic ear to set off all the people who tell you that they LOVED being pregnant ;)
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