A Giant Sack of Crap

August 19, 2009

If you were to meet me in real life and ask me a question like, "So how are you feeling?," there's only one way I'd respond. I'd smile, shrug my shoulders and say something like, "Great! A little bit tired, but honestly, I couldn't find a reason to complain if I tried."

That my friends, is widely known as "keeping up appearances." In other words, LIE! LIE! LIE!
I know it's wrong to fib, but every single woman in my neighborhood seems to have given birth during the days of push-carts and woolly mammoths, so somehow, in these days of air conditioning and Bagel Bites, it just feels wrong to complain.

All I can say is thank goodness for this website, my secret place where I can be honest with the masses--because dude, I totally feel like crap. You're welcome to think whatever you'd like in regards to my whining. Judge me, whip me, tell me I'm not grateful enough--chances are, I don't know you anyway.

Oh the freedom.

So anywho, this is where I'm at...

If pregnancy were a marathon, I'd have to say that I'm at mile 22. It goes like this--you've been running forever, you still have a long ass way to go, and that whole "hitting the wall thing?" Yeah, it's not just some crazy idea.

Amy Lawson has hit the wall. And crapping my pants could very well be right around the corner.
I'm now to the point where I'm carrying 30ish extra pounds, Jared has to tie my shoes, and generally speaking, I cry 3 to 5 times daily. Almost anything can spark the tears these days--a radio commercial for auto glass, the movie Flushed Away, a craving for macaroni & cheese, anything.

For example, yesterday evening, when I returned from my nightly waddle, I walked into the kitchen to find the missionaries chatting with Jared. Sure I'm already Mormon, it's not like they were trying to convert me or anything--but when all you want to do is scratch your crotch, pull the curtains, and walk around wearing nothing but nature's glory, unexpected visitors can really put a damper on your evening.

So I breezed right past them, sat my ass on the living room couch, and commenced with the sobbing.

Jared came in and he was like, "Amy, oh my word, are you okay? What's wrong?"

So I was all, "Jared, the only thing I want to do right now is take a shower, sing some Bon Jovi, and air-dry my crack--but they're here. I can't do any of that while they're here."

"Amy," he said, "I can't ask them to leave, that would be rude."

So I cleared my throat, muted the television and said as loudly and clearly as I possibly could, "ASK THEM TO LEAVE, JARED! ASK THEM TO LEAVE RIGHT NOW."

Apparently they showed themselves out.

And then I cried again, because holy crap, I felt shame like I've never felt shame before.

So you see? This 33-weeks pregnant thing? It's complicated.

And me? I feel like a really big sack of crap.

The end.

14 comments:

Grandma said...

Well Amy, " air dry my a** crack" was the snorter phrase for me with this post. Week 33 with such high dewpoint= no visitors p.e.r.i.o.d. and you know Amy, it is ALL about the dewpoint. Take care, keep your feet up which is a joke to hear I know , but try to...on James, on Gracie, Jared, just keep them up. And cold water on the wrists....seriously:))xoxo

Chief said...

Oh dear! Sounds like you are having a rough go of it. I usually have some really ridiculous comment that doesn't really pertain to your post, or better yet, a sarcastic prayer for you. Today I do not. I just want you to know that I am sorry you feel shitty. I can say I know how you feel because my pregnancies were miserable but you don't care and I don't blame you. The end is near and I am prayer for you silently.

Christina said...

Yeah, I remember hitting that point at about 7 months with my daughter. I didn't have a hard pregnancy or anything, but I'd gained about 40 pounds and breathing was uncomfortable let alone doing anything else. I was tired all the time because I couldn't get comfortable to sleep, which made me really grumpy. And my feet we're swollen from 5 months on, so on top of everything else, I had cankles! I worked all the way up till the Friday before she was born (I went in to be induced the following Monday-36 hours later she was born) but I was GRUMPY to say the least. It got to a point where the guys I worked with would throw chocolate into the room about 5 minutes before they were going to come in and ask me anything.
And crying, oh the crying. It was intense and constant. I had to stop listening to the radio on the way to work because I found emotion in every song I heard. And I was banned by my husband from watching Animal Planet because every day he'd come home and I'd be sobbing about abused animals and how if I could just see through my tears to dial the phone I was going to call and give them all my money because house note be darned, those poor animals just needed it more than I did.

I'm sure when you think back on it in a few months, it will be freakin' hilarious how emotional/hormonal you were. Till then, just try and hang in there!

joolee said...

"sing some Bon Jovi and air dry my crack!!!!!":) Gonna use this Amy-ism tonight if it kills me. Hang in there!

Michemily said...

You know what? It's when I hear things like this that I think? No way! I am adopting! And then I think about how I always thought it was so unfair that girls had to have the babies, and all because of the boys. They have it so easy.

chattypatra said...

((((Amy))))

Jillybean said...

My advice is to not talk to the old ladies. They have no sympathy for you.
When I was pregnant with my first child, I was complaining about how uncomfortable I was, my normally very sweet grandma yelled at me "You don't know what uncomfortable is until you've had two sets of elbows, two sets of knees, two sets of feet, and two sets of hands banging around inside of you!"
Yes, my grandma had twins.
At home.
Unmedicated.

Find someone else who is pregnant and complain to her. She'll understand.

Laura said...

But you're looking really really great!

Krista said...

I remember mile 22 in my marathon. I still can't talk about it to this day. Love you, Amy {{{HUGS}}}

X-Country2 said...

Awww, poor thing. You need a whoppie pie. :o)

Mary said...

Telling the Elders that your wife is not feeling well and maybe another time would be better is not rude!

You certainly have a way with words. I air-dry by making my bed au naturale after my morning shower.

Amber Lynae said...

At least they were wise enough to leave, and someday when their wife is back from her waddle and is a million months preggers, I hope they will remember to show the Elder's to the door and allow their wife to shower and air-dry her ass-crack in peace.

Lindsey said...

Oh, but don't you just L.O.V.E. being pregnant?????????????? Yeah, me neither. Glad your almost through!! Now comes ONE YEAR of a lot of crying (both you, AND your baby) Can't wait for more posts about that!! We are teething now... Great.

Cheryl said...

That was a brilliant tactic, I must say. And no feeling shame about sending those elders packing! You needed some "you-time". Hang in there, mile 26 will be here before you know it! :-)