I'm Feeling This

Oh my god, I hate my uterus.

I’m not going to sit here and let you put me down and belittle me. You already knew I really wanted to get my dog more than I wanted to see you. I do not want you around my daughter. You will ruin her and poison her mind. I have watched you do it to yourself. I am very grateful for what Greg and Kendall did for me when I needed it. And yes, my husband would have already gone up and got my dog and my things if he had the money. It has nothing to do with him being a shitty person or not loving me enough. It has everything to do with not having the money. I will not allow my daughter to be around a person who is in their 40s and acts like a high schooler. My father and husband love me dearly and if they could have they would have gone and got my stuff for me. And you said you would gladly watch Cocoa for me while I couldn’t keep him and that you would find a home for Sophie. And did it ever occur to you that your car was a POS that you let me drive?! It wasn’t my fault the radiator hose blew, and the car began to overheat. Michael, your beloved and most perfect, alcoholic child, who also got himself kicked out of the Air Force, replaced the hose and said it was safe to drive. I pulled over and called my father to help me when your POS car overheated again. It was not my fault that a head gasket blew. I am pregnant, I shouldn’t have to be the one doing ALL the traveling. I do not have the money, first of all. And Secondly, I’M PREGNANT! I shouldn’t be driving long distances by myself at seven months along, which is when y’all want to plan my baby shower, and my husband won’t be able to take the time off to go with me. Not to mention, the baby shower will consist of people I don’t know and family members I haven’t seen in years who will expect it to be okay to touch my stomach and then it will be considered unacceptable and rude to tell them to stop touching me. I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to. And I don’t want to have a baby shower up there. I’m done putting up with your shit.

I hate my mother.

God do people seriously not know how to find out how far along they are? It’s not rocket science.

My husband makes weird, annoying noises in his sleep. And I can’t get comfortable long enough to fall asleep.

Just in case you were wondering you are no where near far enough to be showing with all your fat in the way and no where near far enough for your baby to hear you.

I am extremely irritable and moody. Isn’t pregnancy fun?