There is something that happens to my body the minute the pregnancy test turns positive. I turn into this horrible creature of estrogen. Eager to scream at anyone that tries to tell me I only need to have one cup of coffee in the morning, or to put down my deli turkey.
I am a fiercely independent individual, who never likes to have restrictions on what I can and cannot do, but for the sake of the life I am growing I refrain from sky diving for the first few weeks.
This is me after pregnancy. Aren’t I glowing? Send help.
Within the first trimester I become this human being who doesn’t like to be touched. My poor husband. It’s not that I don’t want to have sex with him, it’s that I REALLY don’t want to have sex with him.
Having sex is what made me this way and I need a small vacation from it, or a big one.
I try my best to avoid things he finds attractive, like walking, talking, and breathing.
Things go really well when I get in bed with bubble wrap.
Don’t look sexy I say as I get in the bed, separate myself from his body parts with a body pillow and pepper spray.
Often I will use my taser gun when things get really heated, like when I’m in the shower. I reach down to shave my legs, he watches in anticipation, I tase him. Show him who is boss here. I’m growing a human being for him to raise.
I run him a cold shower.
I am extra grumpy in the first trimester, probably from the lack of sex. Either way, I don’t want it anyway. Gross. Sick. Stay away from me forever.
Honey, it’s not me, it’s you.
Since I cannot have wine at night to relax my tired body, I resort to other natural minded things, like counting braxton hicks and how many bottles of wine I have in my cellar.
Both too many to count, both depressing.
I eventually fall asleep dreaming of a bottle of ice cold Pinot Grigio and sleeping on my stomach.
Pregnancy is a beautiful thing once you pass the first trimester, but while you’re in it you feel like you could run over all the squirrels that came your way.
Not shower for days, and refuse to get out of your comfy bed for little children who need to eat AGAIN today. What’s with that anyway?
Dinner consists of things that you would never give your children on the reg.
I think that’s it.
Sometimes I throw them a few raw green beans from the garden while I sip my nasty ass carbonated water.
I’ll be back to my normal weird self when second trimester hits.