Being pregnant should be a happy time, right?

I hate that I am fat. I have hated it for years, and struggled with it for years, but it has never gotten to me like it is right now.

Today my pregnant belly "popped". All of a sudden it was sticking out a lot further than it was yesterday. It was a noticeable difference, something that pregnant girls are usually so excited about because they wait for the day that they finally "look pregnant". For me it is so heartbreaking. I can see that it popped, but I am not a cute skinny pregnant girl. I am a big fat pregnant girl and so the belly popping makes me look like an even bigger cow than I already did. It makes me so sad that I don't get to know what it feels like to look pregnant. Especially after waiting SO LONG for this to happen.

And even worse, I feel guilty for feeling this way. 

Big changes on the horizon... FINALLY.

Before I start with my bitchfest for the day I must make note of something amazing... I felt DEFINITE baby movement for the first time today!!! <3

Now on to the vent... Today I am venting to set up my GREAT news though. Not just to complain. =P

 The best way I can sum up my living situation at the moment is HELL. I make the most money in my house, I pay the most of my money to bills, for this financial contribution I am awarded the smallest area of space and I get stuck doing the most cleaning BY FAR of all of the people in my house. It is struggle to stay on top of the mess and destruction that is my husband, his sister, and his nephew. My husbands sister and her boyfriend and son moved in with us two years ago this month. They gave him a big sob story about mold and violence and horrible conditions at their apartment and he fell for it and told them they could move into our two spare bedrooms and help us with rent.

BIGGEST MISTAKE EVER. These people are the kind of people that you see on Cops getting the po-po sent to them because they live in such filth that some anonymous family member calls to have a welfare check done. At the end of the segment you see the big fat hairy shirtless man and the whiny greasy woman in a bath robe and spandex shorts yelling at the cops to give them back their kids and crying because they don't understand why their 270 lbs of garbage scattered through their house is a good enough reason to take them away. Let me tell you, the cops never happened to them, but the rest is NOT an exaggeration of how they lived. It was quite frankly... Disgusting, dangerous, and not fit for ANYONE to live in, much less a child.

And they moved into MY beautiful home.

Last year the dead beat boyfriend finally found his escape and took off leaving my husband's sister and nephew here with no way to support themselves and no apparent ambition to do so. *I* had to basically hand her a job, *I* had to fight for her to get hours, and *I* have been the housekeeper for the whole brood for the last 2 years. No matter how many times I write on the white board on the fridge, or call a family meeting, or just break down and scream about how I need help and I shouldn't have to clean up after not only someone ELSE'S kid, but two grown adults besides myself, nothing worked with the sister and nephew. My husband, thank FSM, has gotten better, but his small contribution to the filth that seems to magically appear EVERYWHERE isn't the biggest problem.

So, finally the sister got full time at work. She finally makes enough money that she can afford her own place. There is no excuse that she couldn't afford to support herself, no turning it around us to make us seem like the bad guys if we are tired of dealing with her shit and want her to move out, no encouragement from other family members to hang in there a little longer because they were scared she would move out of my house and in to theirs. FINALLY we can ask her to leave. Only one problem stood in our way... My husband was too much of a push over to tell her that. He has been putting it off and putting it off because he doesn't want to deal with it.

Well guess what pregnancy is great for! Pushing that soon-to-be-daddy out of his comfort zone with some guilt! When I realized that the sister and spawn staying in our house until the end of the school year meant that I would NOT get to make a nursery for this baby, I had a meltdown. (Sidenote: The sister and nephew SLEEP TOGETHER EVERY NIGHT... let me tell you, the nephew is WAY too old for this to be cute, comforting, or understandable in any way. It is creepy, and gross, and super annoying because she still expects him to have his own room to mess up even though he NEVER sleeps in it.) I couldn't handle the idea that after all we have been through I would have to give up making my baby a nursery because the moochers hadn't moved out yet. It broke my heart.

The hubs told them that they have to go. =D I AM SO EXCITED. I seriously can not wait until the day comes that my house is my OWN again!!!!!! The plan is to give them two months TOPS to save enough for a deposit, find an apartment and GTFO. Come October I will be the happiest girl in he world!! Bring on nesting baby!

Holy shit, I am pregnant?

I got myself knocked up on May 5, 2010. How do I know that? Because I had just gotten a new phone, downloaded a bunch of awesome apps, and one of them happened to track my periods and the days I had sex. I stopped tracking that stuff, but not before I apparently got knocked up.

We weren't using protection. We haven't used protection in 8 years. So, why the shock at the pregnancy revelation? Well, the reason we haven't used protection is because eight years of never getting knocked up, coupled with a doctors confirmation that my womanly parts are damaged and can't make babies, we didn't think this would ever happen. Obviously we knew that as long as I still have a uterus in tact, and he still has working boy bits, there was also a TINY chance, but we weren't concerned enough to do anything to prevent it. We always figured if it happened, fine. If it didn't, well nothing changes.

So when I regurgitated my lunch on July 12th, I went out a bought a test. A two pack in fact. Not because I thought I was pregnant, but because my friends and husband were teasing me about being pregnant since I had a toilet cleaning puke fest and I needed to shut them up.

The first test in the pack was broken, but looked negative enough to me, so I went about my day. Next morning I had a few waves of nausea and decided to take the second test... Yeah, I was the one who ended up shutting up, not my friends.

So here I am, 14 weeks pregnant and still in total shock. I have been to the doctor and had an ultrasound. I have seen the Dinky Bean in my belly swimming around and doing the cabbage patch. I have felt the pregnancy symptoms, which admittedly are MUCH milder for me than for most other people I have talked to, but pregnancy symptoms nontheless. Still, in denial. Until I feel the kid trying to karate chop it's way out of my belly button I still won't believe it.

What I do believe is that unexpected pregnancy makes other people into complete assholes.

Since I found out I have run the gamut of emotions. Obviously shock and denial topping the list, but I have also been scared, completely overjoyed, fascinated with what is going on inside my body, overwhelmed... among other emotions. While I am sure that my emotions are not unique to only me, and I know that other people have felt the same types of emotions when they found themselves in the same situation I am in, hearing the response "I know, I've been there, done that" is INFURIATING. Partly because while they may have done pregnancy, they haven't been here and done MY pregnancy. Not a single person who has said that to me was told they would never have children. Not a single one of them had accepted that and lived life for almost a decade knowing that they would never experience this fundamental part of being a human being. Not a single one of them dealt with the grief and loss that comes with completely giving up on ever having children of their own. So no, you haven't "been there, done that". Shut the fuck up and either listen when you ask me about my pregnancy, or don't ask if all you want to do is one up me on who did it first.

I also don't understand the need to be a dickwad about names. If you ask me what names I have picked, and you (should) understand that different people have different name preferences, then why do you feel the need to respond to the ones you don't like in the most offensive and hurtful way possible? I am a pregnant lady now. I cry at stupid shit, I laugh when things aren't funny, and I have some kind of emotional meltdown at least three times a week. I can't hep it, and your rude ass comments just make it all worse. Since you have been through it all before so many times, shouldn't you know that?

All in all, that stuff really isn't that bad. I can get over it, chalk it up to just not seeing how much of a douche you sound like when you say that, and move on. The thing that I am having the hardest time overcoming is the attitude that my pregnancy is somehow inconveniencing someone else. At least two of my close friends have acted as if my pregnancy is annoying because it intrudes on what they want to talk about, what they want to focus on, or the amount of attention they think I should be paying to them. My pregnancy takes the attention off of them, and puts it onto me (even though it really hasn't changed much at all yet, the kid is the size of a peach and floating in my abdomen, it's not crying like a heathen at a restaurant while we try to catch up). They can't stand that, or the thought that it might happen at all, and that causes them to withdraw and say things like "Are you going to talk about your pregnancy all the time?" and "Don't turn into one of those women who uses their kids as an excuse for everything."

WHAT THE FUCK?

First of all, I am not talking about pregnancy all the time, but even if I was, SO WHAT? There is a PERSON growing INSIDE OF MY BODY. This has been a HUGE shock for me, and I have only known for 3 weeks. I wasn't aware I had crossed the threshold of pregnancy being an appropriate topic of conversation and am no longer allowed to speak about it. Thanks for completely invalidating any feelings I might have about my own experiences and making it clear that this huge life changing event in my life is of no interest to you. Second of all, acting as if I am going to turn into some whiney cunt muffin who uses her kids as an excuse to be a total flake is REALLY nice of you, FRIEND. Fuck off and die now, thanks.

The best comment I have gotten about my pregnancy so far has been this though...

"I hope your kid isn't a genius. It's so hard to carry such a burden. It's been so hard for me my whole life." ~Family member who is clearly NOT a genius.