Ha! Yeah right. I’m not going there. Not cuz i don’t have opinions on the whole debacle, but cuz I am way more self absorbed right now and it’s my blog and I’ll cry/laugh/snarl if I want to. And right now, I’m still pregnant which for me trumps any debate, even when it is stirred up by a scraggly, bearded redneck.

Snarl

I am not going to pop. In the history of women birthin’ babies, I have never heard of one popping. Heck, women bring forth multiple children without popping. Yes, I look ridiculous, but I do not need to hear the indelicate ways people choose to elaborate their view regarding the cusp upon which my womb is set to burst forth life. Just because you are choosing to speak your thoughts aloud, and I merely giggle in response does not mean I am not finishing our dialogue in my head…

Person: “You look like you are about to pop.”

Internal dialogue: “Wrong. Spontaneously combust. Stand back.”

Person: “HAHA! My daughter just asked me if your belly is about to explode!!”

Internal dialogue: “Yes, let me find that scene from Alien on Youtube and I’ll share that with her, shall I? Oh, that would be inappropriate for me to share, as a total stranger? Huh.”

Person: “GAH! It makes me so miserable just to look at you!!”

Internal dialogue: “…I’m sorry…? I’ll waddle quickly away.”

Person: “You really shouldn’t eat peanut butter, or honey, or sandwich meat, or coffee, or tuna, or processed, or sugar, or things that make food worth eating…”

Internal dialogue: “…audible growling…”

Then there are the unsolicited belly feel ups from perfect strangers. If I do not know you and you grab my belly, I will respond in kind.

Laugh

I am part of a pregnancy group on facebook. It’s awesome. There are over 200 of us super hormonal women, griping, craving, and oversharing. I. Love. It. There have been a couple of times when I have posted a question for the group, where we get super real and brazen in our questions but accidentally posted in my regular newsfeed. I usually catch these mistakes pretty quick and delete the posts, but I feel like a few ladies at church are looking at me in horror lately…

I have no bladder control. None. I also just got over a cold that lasted for two weeks. During the night the urge to potty would strike, the firefighter would help roll me out of bed, after I waddled to the bathroom and tinkled my tiny offering I would waddle back to bed only to get hit by a coughing fit, an obscene flow from bladder reserves necessitating a clean pair of Hanes. The firefighter’s snickers began from the moment I finished coughing and hollered, “DANG IT” till I hoisted myself back in bed. Good times.

I was at the grocery store the other day and I had to get a few things from the bottom shelf. And then I got stuck. I was crouched down and absolutely could not get back up. I just continued crouching, pretending to be very interested in the nutritional information of refried beans while waiting for the aisle to clear. When it was finally empty, I used my belly as ballast to pendulum myself onto all fours. In leggings. From that position I was able to gain ground and return to standing. I believe they have security cameras at the store, so I am certain that video is now viral.

We had a crazy ice storm a few weeks ago and while I was feeding our dogs, I fell and landed on my very pregnant butt. I was holding the dogs’ full food bowls as it happened and dog food flew everywhere. Our dogs just looked at me, in the same way humans do when we are not certain if we should laugh or help in similar situations. Well, I started laughing so they started eating the food off of me. Which, I am sure, is dog language for, “So glad you’re ok.”

I can’t remember a dang thing. I will drop words in the middle of my. My sweet oldest child is constantly trying to figure out what thought I am trying to convey to him. I put my contact solution in the linen closet, it took weeks for me to find it. I put eggs and milk in the pantry and cereal in the fridge. The firefighter and I were playing Gin last night and I forgot to follow suits, I just started collecting all the red cards. I drove past our house the other day. We have the only house on our side of the road out here. Just now, I had to use spell check to spell the word “house”.

Cry

as we are entering the final countdown till we get to snuggle our little mystery baby, my mind wanders to these final days in my last pregnancy. We were waiting for our Amelia, though we didn’t know yet that I was having a girl. We were also waiting for my precious Grannie Annie to pass. My Grannie Annie was the epitome of the Proverbs 31 woman. She was kindness and grace, gentleness and laughter, beauty and practicality, loved by all seven of her children, and adored by every grandchild and great grandchild. And her time as a blessing in this world was coming to a close as my time of welcoming a child was approaching. Everyday she thought outside of her pain and moments and asked if we had had our baby yet and if it was a boy or girl. Everyday as I waited for our blessing to come, I longed to tell my Grannie Annie the news. She passed a few days before Amelia was born. I am not a very romantic or dreamy thinker, but there is no doubt in my mind that my Grannie Annie entered the gates of Heaven to a resounding chorus of welcome and met and kissed our daughter before anyone else. What would have been prevented in Earth’s time and space was made lovely and perfect in Heaven.