And yes, I’m referring to myself…
I have found myself increasingly bitter and wanting to punch “normal” pregnant women in the taco… I’m dead serious that if I hear one more whiny, almost full-term twat bitch about how fucking HARD it is to be pregnant my head will probably explode.
OB visit today went really well, I actually saw a fill-in doc- she was awesome sauce! I’m booked in for yet ANOTHER U/S to check my cervix next Tuesday, but didn’t have to have one today thank the heavens since my last one was less than a week ago… Of course- the OB’s office is always a treat. Completely fucking full waiting room, whiny asshole kids (and only one of them was mine! – I kid, actually Gremlin was super awesome and behaved really really well today!!)- there was a mom with a set of twins my husband was almost certain were actually going to beat each other to a bloody pulp, the “hipster” couple that you could tell read every damn baby book on the shelves to be the most perfect parents ever known to man- feeding their child dried fruit by the handful and sitting there smugly looking at the twin mom who’d just fed her kids a granola bar. Of course, hipster mom never even stopping to think for a second that dried fruit is called nature’s CANDY for a fucking reason!!! You could actually SEE the thoughts of superiority ringing through her head as she pulls out her little baggy of dried fruit: “see how much healthier MY child is- she’s eating fruit while your child is eating a granola bar!!!” um, just to note- there’s more sugar in a toddler’s handful of craisins than there is in two granola bars- and there’s less fiber and other nutrients.
Of course I was the asshole who damn near started a war in the waiting room because I was that mom who just happened to forget she had a couple of oreos stashed in my purse from when we went out for lunch last week. (there’s a local chain-restaurant that gives out little 2-packs of oreos with every order off the kids’ menu… so I usually have a couple of them stashed in my purse and forget about them until they are a crumbly mess in the package and I throw them out) and so anyway, Gremlin went diggin in mama’s purse and found the vaunted oreos and well, every other kid in the place went completely batshit!! So of course, I opened them and gave them to Gremlin, and then sat back with a smug look of my own and watched the other kids take their mommies and daddies on a fun little trip to melt-down town… 😛
So back to the subject of taco punching… More excerpts from preggo-forumland:
Enter first time preggo- ZERO complications… no nausea, no SPD, no diabeetus, no blood pressure issues or swelling of any kind. Her first pregnancy is a lot like my first was- textbook fucking perfect. And the bitch has the nerve to write a fucking ESSAY whining about the fact that her GP hasn’t referred her to an OB yet…. and she never even bothered to ASK until now… and is freaking out because it may take up to 5 weeks to get in, and she’ll be 34 weeks by then and isn’t that too late and why oh god why can’t I have anything ELSE to panic about because I’m feeling decidedly left out of the fucking whine fest because, I actually HAVE not a fucking thing to whine about!!!!
Enter *calm pottymouth trying to explain that for a normal pregnancy- all the intervention is completely unnecessary. That as long as she’s had all the proper testing, and there are no complications, she’s actually pretty lucky to not have to subject herself to OB’s office HELL. I mean seriously- given the option, I would take a 20 minute wait to see a GP for 5 minutes to say “yep, all’s fine here”- than spend the better part of an entire fucking DAY sitting in an OB’s office to have a 5 minute visit long enough to get reminded that if I feel ANYTHING out of the ordinary- please for the love of all that is holy go to the hospital!!! Oh, and please, take another 3 or so hours out of your life next week to get yet another U/S that will really serve no other purpose than making you feel like shit because despite doing sweet dick-all at home, your cervix is an even bigger asshole than you and won’t stop shrinking!!!
So yeah… I’m an asshole and completely jaded and just don’t understand the need to panic and worry over every little thing… and to me, this is pretty fucking inconsequential. It seems to me more that she wants to see an OB so she can feel a part of the big girls club, instead of feeling grateful that she doesn’t NEED to see an OB. I guess it’s just another example of perspective. I’m sure to those still in the infertility trenches, I sound like a completely ungrateful cunt too; how dare I whine and bitch and moan- I HAVE ATTAINED PREGNANCY. To those with greater complications than me, or those still early-on in the babyloss process; I’ve had my rainbow, now I get a SECOND- I’m a greedy whore-bag, can’t I just be grateful for what I’ve been given??
Believe me, I am most definitely grateful. But I would be a whole lot more grateful to be the whiny bitch who doesn’t have an OB…
*calm being a completely subjective term- see above about risk of head explosion