I know you all are probably sick of this by now. I complain about my pregnancy a lot, and I’m going to continue doing so. Because I fucking feel like it.

We need to stop telling pregnant women how to be pregnant. We need to stop telling women how to feel while pregnant. We also need to stop telling women they should want to be pregnant when they don’t want to be.

I’ve decided this will be my first and last pregnancy. Yes I’m only 18 weeks along, no I’m not going to change my mind. Stop telling me how to plan for number two or that number two won’t be so bad. I don’t even want to take the risk of a second pregnancy being this awful. I’m still trying to work on cooking this baby, I don’t want to even hear about future babies. Plain and simple, my body is not a happy pregnant body. With how bad this pregnancy has been and the kind of toll it’s already taken on my body and mind, there is no way in hell I would try and do again while raising an existing child. If you feel like despite terrible pregnancies that you can and want to get pregnant again, that’s you boo and more power to you!

Stop judging pregnant women’s bodies (really all women’s bodies, but that’s a larger part of the same story). I finally popped and rounded out a little (not quite as square now...) and decided to post a picture on Facebook because I was feeling good and happy about it. Of course someone asks if I’m having twins. That shit isn’t even cute, stop it. I know I’m not that large, I have a scale, and multiple ultrasound pictures to prove that no, thank you, there is just one. I don’t need to hem and haw about being short waisted or whatever the fuck else to defend why my body looks the way it does. Either say “congratulations!” Or shut the fuck up. Even if I did gain a bajillion pounds, it’s not your business, you’re not my doctor, so continue shutting the fuck up.

Stop telling me what I should be eating or drinking. Did you catch me stuffing an egg mcmuffin in my pie hole? You sure did. That’s really great that you ate all organic and had 5 green smoothies a day. I’m trying to just eat something that sounds remotely appetizing and get my fat ass to work, kthanx. Yes, that’s a cup of coffee you see in my hands. Fuck no, it’s not decaf. I’ve done my research and I know the risks. Funny story, my OB actually told me to put powdered fiber in my morning coffee to see if that got my horribly constipated bowels going. And she is my doctor! So shut the fuck up.

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Stop asking me what I plan on doing for work after the baby. It’s not the 1950s, and if I felt like it was relevant information to share with you, I would tell you. I know you want to make your judgements on what kind of mother I’m going to be, if I’m going to sacrifice my life and career at the altar of motherhood or not, but shut the fuck up.

Stop telling me to enjoy pregnancy because “it goes by so fast!” Bitch, no it doesn’t. I’ve been pregnant for a million years now. I’ve spent so much time fantasizing that I was a sim so that pregnancy only lasted three days and you could fast forward through time. It would be awesome. I would get a beautiful baby in three days time without feeling like I’m being stabbed in my lady bits whenever I try to walk or stand or just be human. I’m SO ready to trade pregnancy for a screaming infant. Colic? Bring it the fuck on. I’m so happy for you if you enjoyed being pregnant, that’s wonderful! But I don’t and I’m okay with that.

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Now give me my baby, please.