7 months Pregnant and eFFing Grumpy

dont fuck with me

Anyone who says that they just love being pregnant can take their fake little smiles and jump into a big pile of amniotic fluid. Seriously it’s not fun. I can’t drink, I can’t run around with my 2 year old, I can’t breathe, I can’t bend over, I can’t walk up a freaking flight of stairs, I can’t have sex (comfortably), I can’t eFFing sleep, I can’t work as hard or as much as I’d like (i’m a server in a really busy restaraunt), I can’t do anything! I’m hot all the time, cranky, sensitive, emotional, tired, bitchy, irrational, and people just don’t seem to get it. I HATE throwing out the “I’m pregnant” card, but it’s like talking to a bunch of brick walls- I’M FUCKING PREGNANT, leave me ALONE! Nothing you say or do is going to make me happy or feel better, and telling me that I could be doing more is going to turn me into a raging lunatic who might just ‘Lorena Bobbitt’ your man parts.

Whew!… ok…

This is most likely completely irrational and I’m perfectly ok with that:

Today I had a fantastic day at the water park with my good friend Steph and her daughter (who is also Brynlee’s very best friend) Chelsey. I didn’t have to be at work so we soaked up the sun and splashed happily all afternoon in the water. I got home, put B down for a nap and I contently turned on Criminal Minds and drifted asleep on the couch. This NEVER happens!

The first time around, being pregnant, I could sleep all I wanted.. now, with a 2 year old, and a new house to maintain, laundry needing done, dinner needing prepped, and work- napping is a rare and precious activity.

So here I am, 10 minutes into a deep slumber and my phone rings, I sleepily answer it and it’s baby daddy. He’s on his way home from work! Of course in life this makes me happy but in this moment I wouldn’t have cared if he won the lottery, I just wanted to go back to sleep! He tries to ask me a million questions about my day (yeah yeah… real sweet) -Until finally I tell him “I just want to go back to sleep!” So we hang up and it’s back to bliss. Twenty some minutes later he loudly makes his arrival, I half awake at his entrance and then drift off again for what feels like 3 minutes but was more like 15 or so and I hear “LEANNA! Can you help me?” He decided to cut his hair and needed my help to trim up the parts he can’t see. I grumpily got up and helped. I said “ALL I WANT IS A LITTLE SLEEP!” He told me to just “go back to sleep after” like it’s no big deal..
Easier said than done, jackass.
I layed down yet again for about 5 minutes, not quite asleep but I know it’s happening -when the loudest clap of thunder came barreling down on us. My eyes opened wide… and there it was… the cry of our toddler. Bryan was in the shower at this point so it was all mommy time. We cuddled up on the couch for a bit, I made dinner, and went about my evening.

After dinner Bryan muttered a few words about me not doing anything. It was trash night and I wouldn’t help him go through the fridge and get things ready to be thrown out. He kept complaining that I was on the computer.

For the millionth time- IM FUCKING PREGNANT! I didn’t get my nap- haven’t had the opportunity to have one in WEEKS, and when I finally do I’m startled awake 12 times! I have heartburn from dinner, I’ve been up and down a million times running B to the potty, my feet are swollen, have a watermelon in my gut suffocating me. What do you expect!? I can’t be superwoman 24/7. I’m so done with doing everything for everybody else all the time. I’m so over not taking care of my body and my unborn baby to make everyone else’s life easier!

Even people in my everyday life piss me off.
NO to everyone who’s asked- we DONT have a name yet for him! If I hear that question one more time I’m going to spew fire from my eyeballs scream until blood pours from my throat.
NO to the chefs at my restaurant- it’s not ‘ANY DAY’ now.. I have 12 WEEKS! Thanks for making me feel huge.
NO to the hostesses, it’s not so perfect, and rainbows, and sunshine.
YES to the desperate housewives of Hudson ohio- I am pregnant, so please ask me for everything you need at ONE fucking time so I can consolidate my steps. I’m waddling for Gods sake so tip me more!
EFF you! -to a particular higher up for more reasons than I’d care to mention since I could lose my job if I wrote it. IM FUCKING PREGNANT YOU BASTARD PLEASE LET ME SIT DOWN FOR 5 MINUTES! YOU LET THE SMOKERS GO OUT BACK, LET ME SIT! LET ME EAT!
And to my co-workers- while most are completely amazing there are a few who make me feel like the biggest piece of lazy shit on the planet.
NO- I can’t bend down 27 times to polish the bottom rack of glassware. Let me sit and wipe placemats, and polish silverware and fold napkins. PLEASE! and NO I can’t help the bussers push and rearrange the tables around in the dining room. It HURTS MY UTERUS! I’d be more that happy to help set the tables with plates, silverware, glassware, and napkins. I’d be more than happy to do what I can, I wish for the love of GOD that I could do more… but right now, I can’t.

And don’t worry… I saw you roll your eyes at me when I finally decided to put the health of my body and baby first and said I that I couldn’t help.

I’m over it.
I can’t do it anymore.
I get that I put myself into this ‘situation’. It is what it is. We wanted another baby, we got him! I’m a server and I knew that it would get hard in this industry.. although its a lot harder the 2nd time around!

Here’s a NEWS FLASH: It’s not going to be like this forever. Just let me be a lazy-raging-bitch for 2 more months … and maybe 3 more after he arrives, and all will be ok in the world again. I’ll be back to being bad-ass superwoman in no time! But for now she’s gone and I’m a tired, blob of hormones.
Until she returns, don’t piss me off or I will cut you.

….And of course now that everyone is sleeping, I can’t. Here I am blogging because I have pregnancy insomnia. All I want is a big California Cab and to be alone for a moment. To just be me, with myself, by myself. Without any responsibilities or cares in the world.

Instead, I’m going to take my prenatal gummy vitamin, some tums, and wash it all down with water… put the clothes in the dryer, brush my teeth, check on my precious little girl and kiss her sleepy face, and smile because I’m lucky to have this life.
…and go to bed just to start another day.

On the bright side, I did not cry today! Yay!

I needed to get this off my chest. Thanks for listening.

Leanna

::::::A dear friend of mine, Meghan commented on my Facebook page and it made my day! I wish I was half as hilarious as her and had her way with words. I wanted to share it with you all:

I remember serving while pregnant with the boys. It was not fun! And taking care of kids while pregnant is really hard work. You are doing a great job. You are growing a human- not exactly a relaxing activity. Do what you can. Laundry gets done eventually. And if it doesn’t- fuck it! Target sells underwear- get a few more pairs and take a nap!
For the record I hated being pregnant. It’s not beautiful, it’s miserable. What on earth is beautiful about heartburn, varicose veins, the likelihood I will piss myself if I sneeze, morning sickness ( and noon and night), hormone overload, gas and a tint little parasite rearranging all your vital organs? In the end, it’s worth it- you get a fantastic gift for putting up with all the shit. But during the growing of another life- that just sucks!
I live 5 minutes away. If you need a nap, being Brynlee over. We have toys, Popsicles and a fenced in yard. Ill happily watch her while you take a nap! What’s one more?? Hang in there, pretty lady!! You can do this! You are a super woman. A beautiful, strong, amazing super woman.
And two more things, waddling is sexy- if it weren’t no male ducks would ever mate with a female duck and there would be a huge duck shortage. There is not a huge duck shortage, therefore, waddling MUST be sexy!!!
And, you have like three days after the boy arrives to name him. I say screw with people and tell them you plan on naming him something awful like Percival or Lord Vader or francis DingleHopper the third.

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