33 days and counting

I felt like I was going to avoid this period this time around...the period where I am frustrated by my body and I hate what it looks like/feels like and I am in a pit of self-loathe.  But, with 33 days to go, here we are.

My pubic bone throbs. I can't get out of bed without a struggle. If I move too quickly, I get cramps. I am definitely waddling everywhere I go.  If I have even an ounce of liquid in my body, and I have a little contraction, I feel like I'm going to explode via my bladder and/or my stomach.

I am seeing things happen to my body that I know can't be undone. If I hear one more person tell me their stupid reason for why they think they didn't get stretch marks (welllllll, I rubbed dolphin saliva on every day, and also used fresh coconut peels as a scrub while I listened to a tape of a wolf howling at the moon!) I will LOSE IT. Well now that I've typed that with my dragon fury, it's possible I've already lost it.

I know my body is performing a miracle. I get that. But it's not like Max is coming up to me every day with gratitude and appreciation, "Wow Mom...thank you for doing that. I really appreciate it. You're beautiful and I love you!"  No.,,the reality is that his current phase involves him slapping me probably 5 times a night. And I am one of those annoying people who needs to be recognized and justified and validated and loved. Sue me.

It doesn't help that people around me are constantly referring to my body.  Why is it that people lose their freaking minds when it comes to talking to pregnant women??
"Are you sure you're not having triplets?" I hate you.
"Do you think they have your due date right?" Oh, good point.
"I don't think its possible for you to get any bigger!" I'll kill you.
"Wow...looks like you've really dropped..." What does that even MEAN.

Do I love that I can have babies?  Yes, duh. Do I love that I am stuck in a wind tunnel of frustration with my body, a body that is mine forever and I can't get away from? No, I surely do not. I have a flawed, human mind and this is my reality right now. I feel trapped and sad and I can't wait for the day when my sweet baby boy is here and I can start on a path to recovery and attempting to work on my body.

But until then, it's just me, this pounding pubic bone and this giant stomach. Pity party, table for one.

Hey, at least it's functional.