Dear Former Self

Dear Former Self,

What the FUCK was I thinking with all this I want a baby wah wah wah woe is me garbage?

Mind you, I am grateful, nay, elated, to be given the opportunity to mother another child, but perhaps I was more built for and suited for adoption?

Pregnancy is an evil evil thing that I have done to you, former self, and I am so sorry. I thought you were fat. PSHAW! You were a smokin hot temptress compared to what you have become. I thought you were lazy PSHAW! You were a bundle of energy and vivacity. I thought your house was dirty. Whatev, your house was immaculate, man.

I thought you had let yourself go, but now I see that you had your shit together more than anyone on earth.

I'm so sorry for this. I'm sorry for the wild dreams and the peeing 9 times at night and running into walls and the spending 30 minutes every morning de-mucusing yourself and getting molested by creepy coworkers and going to bed at 9:30 because you can't stay awake another second and ramming whoppers down your throat because amazingly you get heartburn and the shits from salad but whoppers (the burger king ones, not the malted milk ones) are one of the only things you can stomach.

And former breasts, oh god, you have it the worst. Oh how I under appreciated you. With your cute little pink nips and your perfect overflowing handful size. You've been replaced by something so grotesque that I won't take my bra off to show my own husband.

And teeth, dear God, teeth. You are so dirty and I am so sorry. I've stopped showing my teeth when I smile because I know how neglected you are, but I can only brush my teeth for a max of 20 seconds before the gagging commences and so unless you want more vomit acid covering you and being washed away with Sprite, you must endur the funk for now.

Again, to the Gods of motherhood, I truly am eternally grateful for the life within, but did you have to make the process so intensely grotesque and miserable? I am so hot. People walk into my office and shiver and make fun of how hot I am. My arm pits are soaked by 11:00am. I am sleeping as naked as I can get with an 8 year old in the house. I am so hot.

My face is a greasy nasty nastiness. Probably from the whoppers, but what can I do? I wear makeup and it gets greasier and nastier. I take off the makeup and I suddenly have what I'm almost positive is rosacea.

My husband gropes for me in the night and I beg to just be left alone. I'm HIDEOUS. Nothing about this pregnancy is cute, or glowing - it's just nasty and I want out of this deal.

I love you child, but my lord, I am so freaking miserable and I have FOUR whole months and some change left to go.

So thanks for letting me whine. I have no where else to do it without someone reminding me how badly I wanted this.

Sincerely,
The Ogre