These are my confessions

Since I have been trouble sleeping at night (pregnancy makes me more of an insomniac than I already am), I have compiled a list of totally random things I want to get off my chest.

  • I hate being pregnant. It sucks. I know that many women glow and shine when they’re pregnant, but I don’t. My house is a disaster because all I feel like doing is lying on the couch and moaning. I cannot stand the smell of my kitchen, so that is a total gong show, and everything I want to eat has tons of salt, loads of trans fat, and about 5000 calories. Bring me my fat pants!
  • I do not care for lobster. I don’t know what all the fuss is about.
  • I wish that I could leave Sacha with a sitter once in a while so that I could have time to actually be myself again.
  • To my locker neighbour in high school: I had a crush on you, but I was too embarrassed to say anything because you considered to be dorky (like I’m not a dork, I know…). I was super glad that you were my locker buddy for 4 years, because it gave me a chance to hang with you without anyone wondering why. I am such a tool.
  • I once heard a guy refer to me a “chubby, not the kind of girl you date.” This was a decisive moment in the start of my weight issues, leading to anorexia and then learning how to live with it (I don’t believe that you can truly be cured of it).
  • I often feel left out from my sisters, who are a lot closer to each other than they are to me. I must have been too much of a bitch to them growing up. Wait, I know I was to Talia. Still am, even from thousands of km away. How do I do that??
  • Paul: I miss my friends a lot, but I miss you most because I miss how you seemed to look up to me and ask me for advice, help with school, and how I felt like you needed me, but then again, even if I was still living close to you, you really wouldn’t need me anymore.
  • I have not touched my knitting needles in 3 weeks. The thought of knitting makes me nauseous. I don’t understand the reason behind it, but it’s true. Same goes for reading. Books = pukeville.
  • I am scared of what Sacha is going to do when I am in the hospital having the baby. No family here, no one he’s comfortable with to stay with. I am fearing the worst.
  • I miss my mom. I wish she had holidays left so that she could come take care of me and Sacha so that I could be gross and sick and my house would not fall apart.
  • I need to make supper, but the though of cooking makes me want to yak, and I’ve already ordered take-out way too many times this week. Did I mention that I hate being pregnant? Maybe I’ll have some ice cream. Ew, no, I think I just threw up in my mouth a bit from thinking of it.
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6 thoughts on “These are my confessions

  1. You know what? I hated being pregnant, too! I went through fertility treatments to have my twins and was miserable the whole 7 1/2 months. Then the third baby was a surprise and, again, I was miserable again. So, you’re not alone. I understand. Hope you can make it through this first trimester and find a happy place.

    Heather

  2. Ugh…. I’m so sorry you’re feeling crappy. If I was closer I’d be happy to take Sacha off your hands for a few hours. Zoe would love having a new friend!

  3. Dude, that sucks. All of it. Sucks. I’m sorry you’re having such a rough time of it.

    Perhaps this will be the last time you’ll have to go through it? Then maybe you’ll be like me and once you’re done pushing the kid out, you will have the most intense feeling of euphoria.

  4. Good always rises above bad. Keep your face towards the sunshine and you cannot see the shadow. Just think of the prize that’s going to arrive. He or she is already growing up and probably thinking about how much fun Sacha is going to be to play with. I had a rough pregnancy too but barely remember it now seeing my 16 year old take my car to school!! Sometimes I wish I was still pregnant! I love you Sarie. Hang in there….

  5. But I love you.
    I wish I had no debt, I would come live with you and clean your house so you could be miserable.
    I would do that in exchange for room and board.
    I would rub your feet and massage your back and head. I’d bake you bread and make playdough for Sacha from scratch.
    Maybe its because I always wanted you to act like you loved me more or maybe that I still loved you more than anything even when you tough-loved me.
    You’ll always be my little big sister that I love more than a double tall extra hot nonfat no foam no whip Pumpkin Spice latte.
    And you’ve always inspired me to be better.
    At cooking, baking, cleaning, organising, loving, nurturing, city life and cheap decorating.
    Stef and I may be twins, but you’re the one I want to be like.
    I miss our Friends nights. Which turned into coffee nights. Then after Stef’s wedding evolved to martini night which I rarely actually drank on.
    Although I pretended it was a hassle to come massage your back I felt needed when you’d call and whine to me ‘Talia, I have a headache’

    I love you. I love you. I love you.

    And I always will.

    Even when you’re my overbearing bitchy sis (your words once, not mine)

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