Well, now that I am entering my eighth month new and disturbing preggie symptoms are beginning to show. For one, I seemed to have purchased a one way ticket to Weepytown. Today’s list of things that caused me to break into self-pitying sobs were thus:
- I want to take a bath, but sometimes slugs come crawling out of the drains in our horrible rental house, so soaking my aching carcass in the tub is absolutely out of the question. Tears.
- My five year wedding anniversary is in two weeks and we cannot a) afford to do much, b) muster the energy to do much, or c) drink alcohol, eat sushi, or…do other things that couples do on their five year anniversary (doctor’s orders). Tears.
- Cellulite dimples the size of my fist are creeping lower and lower down my thighs. I am convinced that I am doomed to spend the rest of my life looking like Augustus Gloop. Tears.
- We spend every single day looking for a house to move into but we haven’t seen anything for months that isn’t a urine-smelling wreck with a leaky ceiling (the housing crash didn’t really hit our region as hard as the rest of the country), forcing us to continue living in the cute-on-the-outside slug bungalow for another month. Tears.
In addition to constant crying, this evening while I was flossing I started to have bleeding gums. Every once in a while my floss will be a little pink, especially if I have missed several days in a row. This evening, however, I looked like the losing end of a bare-knuckle boxing match.
On the bright side, my doctor is pleased that my little boy is as strong as a tiny ox, and I guess that puts everything in perspective. Also, I haven’t been put back on bed rest again, so I can weep and mope on my feet instead of horizontally. It’s the little things in life….
The Reluctant Matron 