I tried to read What to Expect When You’re Expecting while I was pregnant. I got as far as being lectured about my diet, and how to “with every bite of food you take, ask yourself, is this the best bite for my baby?” at which point I got a stabbing pain behind my eye which could only be soothed by cheesecake.* I never finished reading it.
I never made it to childbirth classes. They told you not to bother taking them until you were 36 weeks along. At 36 weeks, I was in the hospital with kidney stones and early labor.
I didnt get to send Brandus out at all hours of the night for whatever bizarre food combination I was craving.**
I missed alot of things, or did them a different way, when i was pregnant with Voldemort.
But..do I want to do it again?
That’s where Brandus and I are right now – discussing future evil dictators to be added to our lives. I want to adopt. Brandus wants to adopt. Later.
I would love, right now, to be able to say that we’re discussing things with an agency for international adoption, or older child domestic adoption.
I want another baby.
I dont want to be pregnant.
Brandus wants another baby.
I understand his reasoning – adoptions can take months or years, he wants the dark lordling to be a little older before looking at adopting an older child (by which i mean, not adopting a baby), he doesnt want to go through the insanity (waiting, heartbreak) of having to be put on a list and chosen by a mother giving up her baby, he wants us to adopt for the right reasons.
But, truly, i have no interest in being pregnant again. I did it, i experienced it, im over it. Some women love being pregnant, but great zombie jesus, am I not one of them.
I was seasick for 4 months straight. I threw up ALL THE TIME. Anywhere. No matter how long it had been since Id eaten, or what I’d eaten, or how much ginger I munched. Throughout, nothing tasted good, everything was gross, most of my favorite foods made me gag, i can now barely eat pizza – the very thought gives me heartburn. Everything hurt, i was tired all the time, and all those women who say that the baby kicking feels like butterfly wings or fish blinking or whatever are BIG FAT LAIRS, because I always just felt like I had gas. and let’s not even talk about the joy that is calling your doctor, being told to come in, as you’re having multiple braxon hicks contractions that arent stopping, flying 600 miles for $1700 for both of you, only to get there and have the doctor on call mock you for coming all that way for nothing.
and yes, MOCKED. the nurse was even shocked as to how he was acting.
and then there’s the kidney stones, and the early labor, and the stay in labor and delivery, and then an insanely fast labor (once again with the asshole doctor RIGHT THERE) with my husband NOT THERE, and my mother getting to see the baby before I did.
Do I really want to go through that again?
And yes, I know that there are tons of things that happened last time that wouldnt happen again – because im not in the middle of fucking nowhere, for one thing, but..
I told Brandus when Voldemort was born, that I probably wasnt going to have another. I havent changed my mind, 16 months later.
We’ve had two close brushes with adoption during these past few months, and for me, that’s enough to get me motivated on it. Let’s go, let’s apply, let’s put our names down for a foster/adopt program, let’s pick a country…
Ironic, isnt it? We both want the same thing, but have very different ways of getting there.
Maybe we should get a hamster, instead.
*AND IT WAS THE BEST DAMN CHEESECAKE I COULD HAVE HAD FOR MY BABY, YOU BITCH.
**I was cheated out of this one, I swear.