Thursday 19 July 2012

Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now


The title track to my life. 

I've spent the last 10 years yearning for a child.  I thought: when the time is right I will get pregnant.  I'll be so utterly happy, that giving up smoking and drinking and basically MY WHOLE LIFE would be easy.

Like fuck its easy.  Its TURD.

At age 31, I have spent the last 15 years of my life on the piss.  My world revolved around booze and pubs.  This has now been cruelly ripped away from me, leaving a huge gaping hole (huge gaping hole?  Not a great choice of words there I admit). 

YES I KNOW it will "all be worth it" and I KNOW "its for a good cause" but honestly, if I hear one more person say that I am going to start getting stabby.  

And in place of my good-time-laugh-a-minute life, I have been left with…hmmm…where do I start?  

EXHAUSTION
SICKNESS
PISSY KNICKERS
ACHING BACK
CANKLES
MURDEROUS MOOD SWINGS
WORRY
LONELINESS

The first things going into my hospital bag are: Pack of Golden Virginia and a bottle of my old friend Jack Daniels.  I intend to fail abysmally at breast feeding so as I can JUST FEEL LIKE ME AGAIN.

Hormonal Rages


Completely stark raving bonkers is the only way to describe the episodes I have had.  The raging hormones alongside the tobacco and alcohol withdrawal symptoms make me want to pick up a sharp weapon and do some harm.  The desire to become an axe wielding homicidal maniac is overwhelming at times.  

Who do I want to cause harm?  The one who implanted his seed, the one who is carrying on as if nothing is changing – going out and getting plastered; coming home in the wee hours; smoking in front of me; quite frankly having a ruddy great time without me.  THE TWAT.

I have managed to restrain from smashing anything or actually becoming violent, just about, but by god have I given him a hard time.  And why not?  Why should he be happy?  

I haven't had any fun for 6 months now.  Imagine that.  That is one bastard of a detox.  And I STILL feel like shite.  

Monday 9 July 2012

Irritating pregnancy jargon

Confession - I succumbed and am referring to the passing of time / future time in weeks instead of months.  Something that used to irritate me in my pre-pregnancy days.  But thats only because the doctors and midwives insist on it (the bastards)

But I read some of these websites and its all OH (Oh Hell?) and DD (Dumb and Dumber?) and DS (Do Shutup?) and FF (Fuck Face?).  OK I admit to knowing what EDD stands for - but that's only because I used to work in a emergency maintenance company.

I don't know what the rest of it means, and quite frankly, I don't want to know.

Judgmental Twats

They start crawling out from under their stones as soon as the bump makes an appearance.

The first experience of this was standing with a friend in a Primark queue (classy) and quietly talking about labour.  I mentioned I might want my mum in there as well as my other half, when some hideous troll in front of us piped up with something along the lines of "you don't wanna do that, you wanna do this, etc".   FUCK OFF.

People at work comment on what I eat, how I sit, what I wear.  They comment on whether I am allowed a sneaky ciggy (all the over 50's are like "I smoked and drank through both my pregnancies, and my kids are fine" - making me feel like an idiot for giving it all up.  The under 50's who have never had kids are all like "oh you know you just can't risk smoking and you know the new guidelines say you aren't allowed any alcohol at all?"  - usually said in an accusing tone...I have given them both up you interfering cuntbubble.  GET TO FUCK THE LOT OF YOU.

Then there are the ones making unsolicited comments on the time off I had for morning sickness "when I was pregnant, I suffered with it for the whole 9 monthsI didn't take a day off.  I used to have a cup on my desk for spitting" (wow thanks for that information.  I was just starting to feel better.  Now I am going to be sick again).  And YES I HAVE TRIED GINGER BISCUITS, NOW KINDLY GET YOUR HEADS OUT OF MY ARSE AND FUCK OFF.


No smoking + no drinking =

no fun.

BY GOD do I miss going out with my mates and getting drunk.  I miss staying up until the wee hours listening to shit music in my living room and finishing off whatever booze is left in the cupboard (vodka mixed with Baileys anyone?).  I miss watching Vic and Bob through one unfocussed eye and falling about laughing, I miss singing Disney songs at the top of my lungs (did I just admit that?); I miss going out drinking by the river after work.  In short, I miss being drunk.  And stoned.  I miss being ME.

If I hear one more person say "it'll all be worth it in the end" or " you've only got such-and-such time left now, it'll fly by"  I will defo start getting punchy.

Yes, its all very nice when I feel a kick and all, but fuck me, being pregnant is a bore.


Misery loves company

Hello to anyone reading this.  I've never considered writing a blog before and I have no idea where I am going with this but I need some sort of outlet for my frustration, so here I am.  Perhaps having a moan on here will have some therapeutic properties. As you will no doubt have noted from the title of my blog, I hate being pregnant.  And having been diagnosed with chicken pox at 30 weeks, I have time on my hands and dark thoughts in my head.

I must warn anyone reading this (and I'm not sure anyone will) that I am quite sweary and very moany.  Before getting pregnant I was a heavy drinker and smoker and giving up this lifestyle has been indescribably  hard. There will probably be lots of referencing to my former life which I miss very much.

I would find it helpful to hear whether other women feel the same as me.  I fear that I am alone in hating being pregnant.  If you are one of those women who "just love being pregnant" -oh, do fuck off.  You nauseate me. 

Let me just make one thing clear here and now.  I am happy that in 10 weeks I will have a beautiful baby.  I know I am being selfish at the moment and I realise I am lucky to be pregnant - but to me, pregnancy is an evil necessary...nothing more, nothing less.  I know the end result will be immense.  So if you are thinking of preaching (yadda yadda yadda), think again.  I'm not interested.  Don't push me, I am hormonal!!