Monday, January 14, 2013

Dreams vs. Reality

This is what I thought pregnancy would be like:

Tip toeing through the tulips

I imagined 9 months consisting of the following: blissfully rubbing paraben and phthalate-free lotion on my cute belly, going to pregnancy yoga where I could meet other awesome moms-to-be, drinking healthy, organic, green juices, taking leisurely walks in the temperate S. Florida weather with my dog, planning my dream nursery, crafting little crafty things for the nursery, and, of course, the occasional gorging at Olive Garden, Cheesecake Factory, or any other chain restaurant where the ranch dressing is plentiful and the guilt is minimal.

This is what pregnancy has actually been like:

You may replace the idea of a bathroom with a bed if you get bored of this image.

The toxic-free, happy lifestyle I imagined showering my in utero baby in has been replaced by many toxins (I have, surprisingly, found this oddly freeing - see tomorrow's post). The smell of all my paraben and phthalate-free products made me want to barf. Bring on the fake smells and the petrochemicals! Green juice tastes like battery acid. In fact, anything healthy at all makes me want to gag. Welcome sugar, dairy, carbs and anything processed. I should have bought stock in Chef Boyardee and Eggos because that's where my culinary day usually takes me. I had to quit my job so the dream nursery I was saving up for went out the door, replaced with whatever is on sale or free + Ikea. This usually wouldn't bother me because I love trying to be crafty with Ikea but crafting is a dream I still reserve for the future because the thought of meandering around Michael's or a thrift store makes my stomach hurt. In fact walking for any length of time makes my stomach hurt. And, finally, I haven't been out to dinner since September because sitting up for too long makes me barf. But mark my words I will (YES I WILL!) treat myself to some delicious, fake-food chain restaurant when the baby is old enough for a babysitter.
Because DAMMIT! I deserve it.
And a massage.
And some mommy yoga.
And going to a movie and eating some nachos.
And not throwing them up later.
Ah dreams.

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