Now, don't get me wrong! I love pregnant women. I love the idea of pregnancy and growing a human being in your body. But, it's your body. I can't obsess over your body the way I am going to obsess over my own body when I finally do fall pregnant one day. One day...
Last night we went to my fiance's hair braider and her sister is pregnant. And they are gushing. Super gushing hardcore. She just had her baby shower last week, she's big, she's due in a couple weeks, and she is so over being pregnant. I'm surrounded by all her baby shower gifts, and I can't help but keep my eyes glued to her baby bump.
I want to throw up.
I want to scream.
I want to cry.
I want to hate myself.
In this moment I hate her.
Ok, so maybe 'hate' is a strong word... I hate that your body did what is what meant to do, and you're pregnant, you're beautifully pregnant. I know you're swollen, I can see with my own two eyes (ok, four eyes!) that you're so over being pregnant.
But, you're pregnant.
You're pregnant and I'm not.
There's this weird taboo thing where if you know someone is suffering with infertility, you might feel weird for telling them about your pregnancy. A lot of women say they want to hear your happy news, and I do! But of course I am lying if I say I don't feel some sort of sadness when you tell me. The sadness is not towards your news, but to my infertility. I'm happy for you, because being pregnant is awesome. Giving new life is beautiful and amazing.
Everyone has a story, and my particular story just happens to be I have PCOS and I suffer from infertility. It fucking sucks, but here I am, still going through the motions of my hormonal imbalance every single day.
Every single fucking day.
But that's my story line. All I can tell you is, girl, you not going to have that baby until your feet look like mini sausages. Then that's when you know you're close to giving birth. Also, I love babies, so I will babysit for free if ya need me.